


Dead Hearts

by CzarnaArcher



Series: LoEG [3]
Category: Atomic Robo (Comics), Hellboy - All Media Types, Slender Man Mythos, Stargate Atlantis, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, The Thin Blue Line
Genre: Gen, Hate Crimes, Racism, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CzarnaArcher/pseuds/CzarnaArcher
Summary: Vril living in London are being targeted and the League assembles again to find perpetrators responsible for these hate crimes. This time with new leader replacing Lady Door (who left the Group to attend to family issues revealed in previous story).





	1. Prologue

**Dead Hearts.**

 

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”_ _1_ _)._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism 2 ), xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black.

 

 

**Prologue.**

 

???

 

_London. August 30_ _th_ _. Night._

 

The night was pretty quiet and the streets were reasonably empty even in the East End. Two constables walked around the neighbourhood, patrolling the streets. Recent events, the terrorist attacks left the people uneasy and people in charge saw to it that the police have been seen. It was mostly to calm down people in power, the ordinary folk wouldn't be easily calmed by a pair of Bobbies popping up every now and then here and there, yet it was always better than nothing.

 

They were walking past a pitch black back alley leading to back doors to some establishments when one of them decided to inspect it. There was always a chance of finding a drunkard there; hiding in all the rubbish that often littered these kinds of spots. The constable ignited his torch and marched into the alley, looking around, checking all the shadows. This place had lamps but they were ether out of order or if they were manually operated someone failed to light them, probably to save the expenses for electricity. Of course what was money saving for one person was a nuance for another, in this case a bobby who was stumbling through the darkness.

 

He walked forward flashing his torch at the shadows, behind some large garbage bins, poked a pile of old rags with the tip of his boot to see if someone was hiding in it. Turned out the pile contained no homeless folk. He proceeded to walk forward, inspecting the alley further when on the verge of the light circle that his torch was casting he was strange shaped shadow. He walked closer thinking that he indeed found some drunken bum half-passed in a convenient dark alley.

 

As he approached the figure he realised that he wasn't facing some passed out drunkard after all. The creature in front of him had a bold head, pointy ears, large eyes, what could seem like a misshapen back but in reality was pair of wing stumps and grey skin tone. It was a Vril. And this one was in a bad shape. His clothes were dirty, his shirt in shreds and covered in blood, most probably his own judging from the state he was in. He had fresh scratches, burst lip, bloodied nose, bruises were still forming and one eye was swollen shut. He was sitting in a back door to some establishment, his head was resting on a wall, he was barely conscious.

 

“Hey, Hodges, come here. We have another one!” The constable yelled to his partner.

 

“What?” Came confused reply.

 

“Come and see.”

 

The other constable jogged closer and glared at the beaten Vril and spewed impressive string of creative profanities. He walked closer and crouched in front of the assaulted Vril.

 

“Mr Arrews? Mr Arrews! Can you hear me?” He gently touched the assaulted Vril's arm but received no answer aside from a silent moan. “Call for an ambulance, Murrow, he's out.”

 

“You know this guy?” Constable Murrow eyed the Vril and reached for his radio.

 

“He's my mum's neighbour; he always carries her grocery bags.” Constable Hodges replied. “He works as a male stripper in one of the clubs in this area.”

 

“Got it.” He nodded and opened the channel. “This is Constable Murrow, I need an ambulance...

???

 

_September 2_ _nd_ _– three days later. Scotland Yard._

 

It wasn't as much of a demonstration as much as it was a rally of angry people screaming their rage at the Metropolitan Police building. They were having banners and signs and they were raging. It started peaceful but it was clear that if something happened it would go violent in no time. The crowd was colourful but not because of their clothes but because of their faces. They were Europeans, Africans and Asians there. And there were Vril there too. All with banners about recent wave of violence against immigrants, mostly Vril.

 

???

 

_Inside of Scotland Yard._

 

The Commissioner of the Met3) was on the phone and he didn't look happy about it. He was looking at the TV that was set on a news channel showing the very demonstration that was taking place in front of the Yard, it was muted though. He could hear the chanting from the outside anyway.

 

“Yes sir, but I don't see how could we just leave it be.” He said to the phone. “Yes sir, I can see how it can result in riots... eventually. People are angry as it is.” He continued after a moment and then listened intently to his interlocutor again. “Sir... Yes sir... I don't know details but yes, I believe these were xenophobic attacks and... I will see to it and the City Police and we will of course collaborate on this. Yes sir. At once sir. No, we will do everything in our power; we don't want the attacks to escalate. Yes. Naturally sir. Please do, sir. Good bye sir.”

 

He hung up and sighed a heavy sigh followed by wiping sweat out of his forehead. He grabbed the remote and turned the sound in the TV back on.

 

“ _... the third attack of a Vril citizen in less than a week the entire Vril community is deeply concerned. As we can see their protest is being supported by new immigrants originating from EU and from our citizens whose parents and grandparents decided to move in from former colonies.”_

 

_The reporter moved to the protesters and approached a dark skinned man._

 

“ _Sir, why do you support Vril protests?” She asked._

 

“ _When I was a kid I've been bullied at a school bus because I looked different. They would throw food at me. I thought it was rough, but now? They're beating people so bad that they land in a hospital for the same reason.” The man said_ _4_ _) with sad look in his eyes. “That's not right. No one should be targeted like this. I don't care if they're Vril; they're people like everyone else! They have the same rights as we do. They have the right to be safe!”_

 

“ _Thanks you. And you?” She paced to light skinned woman._

 

“ _I moved to UK with my family, my brother and parents just after the UE took new members in 2004, I was a teen back then. And earlier this year my brother was attacked by few strangers for speaking Polish on the phone. He was talking to our aunt back in Poland. The men who attacked him were drunk and him names, they tell him to go back home. But this is our home, we went to school here, we have no other home!” She gestured around_ _5_ _). “And Vril don't have other place go, this is their home. We do nothing wrong by living here, we work, we pay taxes, we're part of the society.”_

 

“ _Thank you Miss.” The reported turned back to the camera. “As you can see, these people support the Vril people... “_

 

???

 

_A week later. Scotland Yard._

 

The Met Commissioner sat at a table in his office along with the City of London Police Commissioner and the Home Secretary. They weren't looking happy.

 

“So, lately only Vril were targeted?” The Home Secretary questioned. “And after that demonstration we had four more attacks? What were you doing all this time?”

 

“I would like to stress that it didn't happen in the City.” The City Commissioner interjected.

 

“Yes, we are aware, Hamish.” The Met Commissioner sighed. “And yes, four more attacks. The latest victim is still in the hospital.”

 

“But, aren't they Vril? Didn't they have some super healing powers?” The Home Secretary asked with confused face.

 

“No sir, not anymore.” The Met Commissioner shook his head.

 

“But wasn't that the reason Nazis hunted them down during the war? To get the secret of their power?” The Home Secretary enquired further.

 

“Yes sir. But that's the problem. Their powers originated from this source in their home, which was destroyed by Nazis when they were capturing the Vril. The source doesn't exist anymore and so Vril powers are gone.”

 

“What Henry is saying, sir, is that ever since they started to live among us, they have no other powers than we do. Except for the fact that they're more amiable than we are.” The City Commissioner added.

 

“Not to everyone apparently.” The Home Secretary huffed. “What do you have on the attacks? Please tell me we can contain this before it goes uglier than in already is. The world is watching.”

 

“The reports I received reveal similar MO in every case. The victims are a schoolteacher, a nurse, a male stripper, a stay at home husband, a teenage student, a waitress and a rope access technician. The stay at home husband is married to human woman and the nurse is married to human man, the waitress is single young woman, the male stripper is single middle aged man, the schoolteacher is married to a Vril man and the rope access technician is engaged with a Vril woman.” The Met Commissioner read from a file. “They all testified that they were attacked by a group of three or four males, all of them tall, well built, white, wearing masks. They were beaten but there was no sign of sexual assault. The attackers were calling their victims slur names and told them that Nazis should've finish the job and end them all when they had a chance.”

 

“How did they know the attackers were Europeans?” The Home Secretary asked. “They were wearing masks, weren't they?”

 

“Ski masks with holes for the eyes. The victims noticed that they were having light eyes, blue and grey, though one of them was reported on having brown eyes. Still, light skin tone.”

 

“Looks like it is organised.” The City Commissioner leaned back.

 

“Yeah, but we haven't caught any traces of them.”

 

“I will talk to the MI5 to see if they have anything for you.” Home Secretary stood up. “I want this contained. We're nearing Brexit this whole situation isn't helping in the negotiations. The EU is worried about the fate of their citizens and that hampers our efforts. And I can't blame them, if we cannot guarantee safety of our own citizens, how will be guarantee safety of theirs?”

 

“Thanks you sir.” The Met Commissioner rose from his seat as well, followed by the City Commissioner. “I understand I have full authority over this matter?”

 

“We will see about that. For now find out more and then we will talk about it.” The Home Secretary left the two Commissioners alone.

 

“I don't like this.” The Met Commissioner growled.

 

“You and I both, Henry, but it is what it is.” The City Commissioner shrugged. “For what it's worth, I think you've gotten a bite of something big here.”

 

“You think?” The Met Commissioner rubbed his face. “When was the last time you've heard about organised band of xenophobes?”

 

“In the history class when we were talking the 'Brown Shirts'.” The City Commissioner smirked. “But I don't think it's that bad. I'd wager, if I was a gambler, that it's some organised crime group with xenophobic hobby. Or perhaps these Vril saw something they shouldn't? They all have walked home late evening or at night.”

 

“If it's organised crime then MI5 may have some info.” The Met Commissioner sunk back to his chair. “God, I hope this ends fast, the Mayor is breathing on my neck about it all the time. He wants attacks on his citizens to stop, he promised that he'll make London safe and if he wants to be re-elected he needs to keep that promise.”

 

???

 

_Two days later. MI5 HQ._

 

The Met Commissioner sat in a chair in MI5’s M, known more widely as M5 (as opposed to MI6’s M known as just M). He brought everything he had on the attacks just in case. This meeting was arranged by Home Secretary so he could talk with M5, the Met Commissioner wasn’t entirely comfortable with this arrangement but he had little to say in the matter. The more he learned about the case the less he liked anything to do with it. This case stank with unpleasant things for miles.

 

“I appreciate you having me.” He smiled to the M5 with some effort.

 

“I appreciate you arriving. I understand that this is all you have on the matter?” The M5 asked.

 

“Yes. This may come in handy…”

 

“I will ask you now to surrender this to me. Also, is this absolutely everything you have on the matter?”

 

“What? Why?” The Met Commissioner’s eyes turned round.

 

“It is national security matter. Again, is that everything you have?” The M5 reached for the folder.

 

“Yes. Naturally, it is a copy… But why national security? It’s a criminal case, nasty one but still a criminal case.”

 

“I do not believe so. The Home Secretary was quite explicit in what he was looking for and I fear that you have taken a bite of something rotten here.” The M5 opened the folder and leafed through it. “Although I see that you didn’t take a large bite after all. Jolly good for you, you wouldn’t like the taste of it.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It’s a bigger pile of stank than you may think. We will take over this case although we may seek your cooperation if it will be necessary.” The M5 nodded.

 

“Is it really that bad?” The Met Commissioner shoulders slumped. He should see that one coming.

 

“Bad enough for it to be my job as of now.”

 

“Come on; at least tell me how bad it is. The Mayor is sitting on my back and demands answers. I have to tell him something.”

 

“It is not a huge secret although it is not to be released to the public for the wellbeing of the investigation, you understand.” The M5 put the folder down and focused entirely on his guest. “Ever since the most recent terrorist attacks in London and on the continent we have taken a keen interest in all the organised crime in an effort to prevent further incidents.”

 

“So, you know who's behind this?”

 

“Not quite. We know who is not.” The M5 admitted. “These attacks bear marks of hate crimes, racially motivated, brutal with reasonably consistent Modus Operandi. At first we assumed that it had to be the handiwork of one or more of those far right movements, especially the ones that idolise people like Fjotolf Hansen.”

 

“Who?” The Met Commissioner blinked in confusion, he never heard of the man before.

 

“Fjotolf Hansen, you may know him as Andreas Breivik, he changed his name.”

 

“Oh, him.” The Commissioner nodded. That name he did recognise.

 

“We have discovered however that it was none of the far right organisations that we know of. Neither of them admitted to committing these attacks either, not even Hansen/Breivik’s worshippers. That led us to believe that the recent attacks were work of some yet unidentified new party not connected to the local movements that we know of.” The M5 finished his explanation. “This is why MI5 is taking over.”

 

“You think it may be some sort of terrorist organisation?”

 

“They do commit unprovoked attacks on the citizens that are calculated to terrorise the society. That’s the definition of terrorism.” The M5 replied. “At this point in time any group of people conspiring to attack anyone residing in the UK will be regarded as terrorist and treated accordingly. No matter whom the victim of the attack is.”

 

“I suppose that this is more that I could ask for in the way of explanation.” The Met Commissioner stood up. “That should allow me to give the Mayor answers that he will demand from me.”

 

“You should be able to satisfy his curiosity.” The M5 nodded. “One more thing, Commissioner, as I said before we may seek your cooperation so make sure that your forces are prepared. The City Commissioner already knows. I bid you farewell, Commissioner.”

 

“Good day to you too.” The Commissioner nodded his head and left. This was now out of his hands, and out of his hair. He knew that he should be irritated that he was pushed away from this case, but somehow he felt relieved. If this would blow up in someone’s face, at least it wouldn’t be his.

 

TBC.

 

1) This song is, of course, not about immigration or refuge (and xenophobia that accompanies it) but I felt that it did fit well to the situation of Vril which were refugees (and to an extent immigrants) in this story (and sometimes in RL too).

Vril in this story are refuges who underwent successful and smart assimilation into the society: they cultivate their customs but follow laws of their new country and respect local customs. They (along with their immigrant human equivalents) became part of the society.

 

2) Speciesism is like racism only with species. I’ve met with this term the first time reading the Discworld. I use it here because technically Vril are different species than humans. And, mind you, if one day we will meet some aliens this term will come in handy (I just don’t know who will be bigger speciesists, the aliens or us).

 

3) The Met – Unofficial name for the MPS – Metropolitan Police Service, a police force responsible for the area of Great London with exception of the City of London (the strict centre of London, the original London) which has its own police.

 

4) Idris Elba, the actor, said that when he was in school, other kids would throw eggs at him for being on African origin. I decided to base this on him.

 

5) Happened few times too. Last time it was on the Brown Line in the London, two Poles were beaten and one of them landed in hospital.


	2. V to VI

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”_ _1_ _)._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesis m , xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**V to VI.**

 

???

 

_September 15_ _th_ _. Wilhelmina Murray’s office, MI6 HQ._

 

Mina knew the moment she was told the head of MI5 wanted to meet her that it had something to do with the attacks on Vril and that he would want something from her. In theory it was outside of her authority and thus not her problem, in practice she received an order from Foreign Secretary to cooperate fully with the MI5 on this case. She assumed the MI5 received similar order from Home Secretary.

 

And now she was there, welcoming the Director of the Security Service known as MI5 into her own office. Being a former Question Mark that fell under MI5's interest for a long while didn't brighten her mood, the fact that the present Director wouldn't know anything about her did little to improve her attitude.

 

“Chief.” The Director of MI5 smiled brightly but only with his mouth. “It pleases me greatly that you decided to have me here on this fine day.”

 

“Director. Please, spare me the false pleasantries.” Mina sighed heavily, his behaviour served to only unnerve her. “We both know why you're here.”

 

“Indeed we do. Well then, if you insist we will skip the formalities and move directly to the business.”

 

“That would be ideal. Please sit.” She gestured to a chair. “What do you require from me?”

 

“Shortly before you have been... recommended as the new 'M' for MI6, certain resources have been shifted between our agencies due to reforms, bureaucracy and budget cuts.” He started. “Among these rearrangements was that which led to files and materials regarding a... list of groups of operatives known for at least few last centuries under collective name of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

 

“Yes. They even have been deployed.” Mina nodded knowing well that at least the first time they have been assembled has been officially approved. The second time was unofficial and those who needed to know acknowledged the fact. To her best knowledge MI5 Director wasn't on the 'need to know' list.

 

“I am aware of that fact. Now, Miss Murray, in the past the League was in MI5 interest and fell under out authority but now it is under yours. This is the reason why this meeting has been arranged.”

 

“You want the League to work on this case.” Mina nodded with understanding. “Should it still fall under your authority you would just assemble it and be done. But it falls under mine, as it should, given the League's origin and nature, so you need me to gather it and... Lend it to you.”

 

“In a way. I reckon that such a Group would be most efficient in dealing with this situation.”

 

Mina observed the man for a moment. He had manners of a gentleman but just underneath it lurked something else. If one observed him closely enough one could see the street toughie poking from underneath that mild mannered facade of cavalier he was maintaining. A former field agent much as herself. She could respect that even if she didn't like the man. And she wondered if he noticed the same in her.

 

“Agreed. They would most definitely be qualified to deal with the situation at hand.” She leaned back in her chair. “There is however a slight problem.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Such as the fact that they are now under MI6 command. The legality of deploying them in a case regarding domestic threat is questionable at best.” She pointed out.

 

“What if our working assumption would be that the threat may not be exclusively domestic?” He hypothesised. “A joint operation would be not only justified, it would look extremely well for us to show that both agencies work together on a threat.”

 

“That would be a first.” Mina huffed.

 

“And as for the make-up of the Group? I am well aware of it peculiarities, both present and historical.” MI5 Director carefully ignored her comment. “As long as the leader is Her Majesty’s subject everything is in perfect order.”

 

“And that’s the problem here.” Mina pierced her guest with a serious stare. “There is no leader at the moment.”

 

“Explain please.”

 

“The Leader of the Group is not available. And won’t be available unless she will choose so herself. Furthermore I am not sure if all other members will be readily available either. I may need to recruit again.”

 

“Do so if you must though old members would be better, they already know each other and know how all this works. Whatever you do, please do it under one week. Out time is short and we both need to be able to tell that we’re doing something. Anything.” He stood up. “As for the leader, do not worry. I will get you one. It may even work for our favour as it would authenticate our cooperation.”

 

“I’m not sure if I am comfortable with your agent in my agency.” Mina rose from her seat as well.

 

“Do not worry about it. It won’t be my agent; I am not foolish or delusional enough to place one of my own in your midst. Your agents would never trust one of mine to properly cooperate. I will be having someone you can comfortable work with chosen for you. Someone fit for public appearances.”

 

“Fine. But I will have to approve that leader first.”

 

“Excellent. I suppose I will be hearing from you when you have the group assembled?” He asked with a sly smirk.

 

“I expect your candidate’s dossier on my desk before I have my group reassembled so I have time to evaluate and approve them.” Mina extended her hand. “Until we meet again, M5.”

 

“It’s just ‘M’.” He shook her hand.

 

“In here I’m the ‘M’.” She narrowed her eyes.

 

The ‘M5’ smirked again and nodded. That was the problem, they both were Ms. This wasn’t a problem in XIX century, but somewhere on the line when modern security services for United Kingdom were formed, someone have forgotten to give both heads of agencies distinguishing initials they could use. In consequence they both were known as the ’M’. And all that because the first head of UK’s secret services signed himself with just one initial.

 

TBC.


	3. Same Difference

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism 2 ), xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Same difference.**

 

???

 

_September 16_ _th_ _. Mina and Orlando’s flat._

 

Duke Prospero wasn’t ecstatic about being bothered but he understood the need. Especially that it was for the League. Still both women had to hear their fair share. The Blazing World blazed in the background but all they could really focus on was his frown as he faded from their sight in their wall sized mirror.

 

“He didn’t seem so pleased.” Mina blinked few times.

 

“You are surprised?” Orlando torn her stare from the mirror. “You asked him for directions.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?”

 

“Duke of Milan? Are you serious?” Orlando sighed. “Still, he seemed less angry than he should.”

 

“Because it’s about the League. If it is about the League he’s willing to stomach almost anything.” Mina sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what was between him and Gloriana that it made him so… So fixed on honouring her wish.”

 

“Does it matter? He said he’d send your message. It’s better than just giving you the directions.” Orlando shrugged. As far as she was concerned the easier it was the better.

 

“Yes, but I hoped we could stick to the tradition and get the new group leader to contact the operatives.” Mina furrowed her eyebrows. “The way I did and the way Door did.”

 

“Give it a rest, Mina. Gaining authority in the Group may be important when the Group is formed, but as far as I can see you’ll be getting the same people as before, and they already know how it works.” Orland rested her hand on Mina’s back.

 

“And if I have to recruit one or more new agents?”

 

“Then they will have to deal with it. It is XXIst century and they’ll need to act professional.” Orlando gently led the other woman away from the mirror. “If they can’t then they can’t be Extraordinary Gentlemen. Come now, time to rest.”

 

???

 

_The next day._

 

The waiting was the worst, at least in Mina’s opinion. Sitting and doing nothing, waiting for something to happen or someone to act. Orlando had no such problems though. She was amusing herself with TV, enjoying some talk show.

 

“So, how is your progress with the documents?” She suddenly asked, startling Mina.

 

“Good.” Mina replied without any enthusiasm. “You’d be surprised how much of paperwork is there.”

 

“So, how much of that do you have to tidy up yet?”

 

“It seems that I have all our documents straightened… but there are still the notes and small stuff that I have to check, luckily I know the timelines for our activity. As long as there are no stray pictures in any private archives things should go well.”

 

“I highly doubt that anyone keeps private archives of that.” Orlando returned her attention to the TV. “And even if they do, we’ve changed our appearances often enough. I was turning male to female and you were changing your hair, Allan is dead and the others were coming and going...”

 

“And old pictures aren’t that reliable because they didn’t have the same quality as modern ones, plus they were monochromatic.” Mina nodded. “Good thing that archive wasn’t digitalised.” She laughed.

 

“It may one day, but you got to it before anyone had a chance to get it near any scanner.” Orlando smirked. Modern technology was neat, in her youth she couldn’t even dream of such miracles, but there was a downside to everything and technology was no exception. Speaking of which. “What’s with the TV?” She asked when the screen began to snow. “I think the aerial is broken.”

 

“We have cable.” Mina walked over to the decoder and gave it a look. “Funny, it looks like it’s perfectly fine.”

 

“Maybe it’s on the provider’s end?” Orlando guessed.

 

“Uh, maybe it’s not.” Mina suddenly paled.

 

“What?” Orlando turned to see what the other woman was staring at and froze.

 

Orlando never was Slenderman before, at least not with her own two eyes. He was tall, very tall and thin but somehow not sickly thin, just lean. His skin snow white and his face was featureless aside from two indents in place of eyes and a small bump where his nose should be. He wore jet black business suit with matching tie and immaculately white shirt. All in all Orlando found him looking smashing. Well, except for him being the Slenderman, not that such detail mattered to her much.

 

“It’s good that you made it.” Mina spoke breaking Orlando’s stupor. It was then that she recalled that Slenderman had this effect on people.

 

The faceless entity stomped closer and Orlando saw his tentacles unfolding from his back, waving behind him in gentle arcs. He seemed to be irritated.

 

Then he threw four pictures on the table. Where did he manage to get them was beyond both women but the photos showed all members of the League save for him. Then he pointed at Prospero’s amulet hanging on Mina’s neck.

 

“Yes, I asked him to find you. That was the only way I could think of.” Mina shrugged. “I hope he wasn’t overly rude, was he?

 

Slenderman crossed his arms in answer.

 

“You know how… commanding he can be.” Mina sighed. Of course Prospero wasn’t rude to Slenderman, but he certainly wasn’t placatory. He probably ordered him around the same way he ordered everyone else. That was just how he was.

 

The pale creature tapped with his index finger at Door’s picture.

 

“No, and I think that you know perfectly well why she won’t be joining the Group on this occasion.” Mina shook her head. “I do hope to get the rest of you though. Are you willing to join?”

 

Slenderman stared at the pictures and then at Mina. He seemed to be hesitating for a moment before he picked Door’s picture and held it for Mina.

 

“Yes, there will be new leader.”

 

He tilted his head. And gestured at other pictures and at himself in question.

 

“Neither of you will be the leader.”

 

The silent entity crossed his arms again.

 

“It wasn’t my call. This will be joint operation with MI5 and since it is domestic security issue they need to authenticate legality of the conduct by appointing a leader of the Group that is actually British as the rest of you certainly are not.” Mina explained.

 

Slenderman seemed to stare at her for a moment without as much as a twitch. Even his tentacles froze. Orlando was about to risk poking him when he finally moved again only to hold Door’s picture again.

 

“I don’t know her personally; I only got her censored dossier after the arrangements were done and only because I demanded it before gathering the rest of the Group.” Mina shrugged. “She’s a police woman with very good understanding of the problems of troubled youth, immigrants and minorities while also versed in discrimination issues. Trust me; from the parts that weren’t censored, this may actually be a good leader. So again, are you in? Can I count on you?”

He gently put Door’s picture down and stared at the rest for a long moment before refocusing on Mina and nodded.

 

“Thanks you. You will get briefed in detail along with the rest of the Group but for now I can tell you that the mission will be about investigating people behind the attacks on Vril that recently occurred.” She revealed. “Now, about the rest of the Group. I have no way of knowing if others will agree but I’d rather have them than be forced to recruit entirely new members and since the new leader will be introduced only after I have the rest of the team gathered, I can’t send her on the mission to get them. This is why I want to send you for them.”

 

Slenderman didn’t show any reaction to what she said for a moment and then shook his head. He picked Kroenen’s picture but pushed Robo and Spike’s toward Mina.

 

“I don’t understand, what does that mean?”

 

“He’ll go and fetch you Kroenen but you need to talk to Robo and get Spike on your own.” Orlando explained. To her meaning of the gesture was clear.

 

“Why not everyone?”

 

“Mina, he has no way of reaching Spike and I doubt he can get Robo especially that I don’t think he’s capable of actually talking to him.” Orlando didn’t wait for Slenderman’s pantomime. “You have the connections needed to get Spike and you can talk to Robo.”

 

Slenderman pointed at Orlando and nodded, clearly agreeing with her words.

 

“One more thing though.” Orlando sighed. “While I’m sure Robo won’t reject your request, from what you told me before, you have no leverage to get Spike if he will decide that he’s not interested. And you better get something to bribe Kroenen with.”

 

“And if these two decide that they don’t want to get involved I will need to find replacements for them.” Mina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just great.” She glared at Slenderman. “Do you have any way to make sure Kroenen will agree to cooperate?”

 

Slenderman shook his head ‘no’.

 

 

 

 

[“Very well…” Mina furrowed her eyebrows in thought. “I do not have any more grimoirs that he might have interest in, but tell him… or pantomime him that I will prepare some rare documents, reprints, materials prepared by the League to record their findings and events the past Groups participated in.”

 

“Are you sure, Mina?” Orlando questioned.

 

“As the ‘M’ I have full access to these documents and free reign of them, have you forgotten, ‘Lando?” She straightened up. “I am certain that Doctor Kroenen will keep these documents for himself. And Slenderman needs a bargain chip to get Kroenen work for us once more.”

 

Slenderman nodded in agreement and before Mina could say anything more he was gone.

 

“Mina, this is foolish.” Orlando looked around to be sure they were alone again. “The point was to make sure these documents were not available anymore.”

 

“The point was to remove these documents from governmental reach, ‘Lando.” Mina patted her companion’s arm reassuringly. “Besides, I am not a fool; I won’t give away anything dangerous to us. If it will make you feel better then double-check my picks in case I missed something.”

 

“Fine. I trust you. But still double-checking is a good idea.” Orlando huffed in defeat. “We wouldn’t want to leak something that would displease Prospero.”

 

“Don’t even mention such a possibility.” Mina trembled slightly. She was always in Prospero’s good graces but she knew he could be harsh. “Although, come to think of it, he agreed to contact Slenderman… could it be that he takes interest in members of this present Group? He always looked for agents.”

 

“With him you can never be sure.” Orlando stared blankly at the wall mirror that Prospero always used to contact them. She wondered if one day one or more of those agents that Mina commanded now would be their comrades. And who could it be.

 

TBC.

 


	4. Headhunting

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Headhunting.**

 

???

 

_Sunday. September 17_ _th._ _Tropic, unknown location._

 

Professor Doctor Karl Ruprecht Kroenen proceeded to gently lubricate delicate mechanism with one, minuscule drop of oil. The mechanism he was now working on was old and fragile. It was also a souvenir that he valued highly – a pocket watch that he received from his grandfather. Not that he was particularly fond of the man, but it was a gift he had received when he went to study medicine. It marked a huge step in his adult life, and it served him well.

 

The drop soaked into the winding mechanism to allow its smooth work. Kroenen straightened himself still holding tiny oil leaker, sighed with satisfaction, looked forward and jumped.

 

Slenderman stood there silently, observing the German without as much as a twitch. The creature was patient and he had time, there was little point in interrupting the Occultist in his task, especially that he seemed completely focused on it. This is why the pale entity decided to allow Kroenen to notice him on his own.

 

“By the...” Kroenen rasped out. “Aren't I too old for you to stalk?”

 

Slenderman cocked his head and gestured at the door. Clearly he didn't want to talk in the poky impromptu study.

 

“Naturally. Come.” The German led him through the door to what served as living room.

 

It was clear at the first sight that nothing here was permanent. This was just a temporary hideout, one that could be left without any remorse. It certainly looked like any other bolthole Slenderman saw; he could bet that everything of value to this two was constantly packed and prepped for grab and run.

 

In the living room Slender saw another man and guessed that it had to be Leopold Kurtz, one of few associates of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen, and probably the only one still alive. The man was short, in fact he was a dwarf and how that came to pass when he was serving the third Reich was beyond Slenderman's understanding of the Nazi philosophy. He also had jet black hair and was... not very handsome, in fact he was everything but.

 

The man was leaning over what looked like pieces of sniper rifle and was putting it back together. It seemed that he have just finished cleaning every part of it.

 

“Leopold, why didn't you use the workshop?” Kroenen asked with displeasure in his voice.

 

“Because you were occupying it.” Kurtz answered looking up and then re-focusing on his task. “And who is that faceless man?”

 

“This is Slenderman, I’ve told you about him before.” Kroenen gestured to the silent entity. “And he was about to tell me what brings him here.”

 

“ _League.”_ Slenderman buzzed out and Kurtz jumped in shock. The sound that reverberated was strange as if it travelled not through his ear channels but rather bones.

 

“Do not tell me Herrin Murray is gathering the Group again.” Kroenen seemed perfectly at easy with the creature's voice and more concerned with what was being said.

 

Slenderman nodded in confirmation.

 

“Why does she gather the League?”

 

“ _Vril are being targeted in London.”_ Slenderman answered. _“This is all I know, I assume we will investigate.”_

 

“Vril? That’s interesting.” Kroenen sat down on a rickety chair that moaned under his weight. “And why would she want me, of all people, to join again? Or better yet, what makes her thing I will agree?”

 

“ _She has an offer.”_ Slenderman revealed. _“Documents.”_

 

“What kind of documents?” Kroenen enquired.

 

“ _League's documents. Old ones.”_

 

“Do I get to choose which ones I want?” Kroenen questioned.

 

Slenderman shrugged, he didn't really think so.

 

“And why does she need me so badly? I believe that Doctor Tesla would rather have someone else in my place.” Kroenen asked.

 

“ _She doesn’t want to recruit new agents on top of having new Group’s leader that isn’t even chosen by her.”_

 

“What of Herrin Door?” Kroenen sounded genuinely surprised.

 

“ _She is occupied with family issues.”_ The pale creature shrugged.

 

“And the new leader?”

 

“ _New leader will be appointed by MI5; they were the ones requesting League’s involvement.”_ Slenderman explained.

 

“And what guarantees I have that I will remain free?” Kroenen finally asked a question that bothered him the most. “I assume that of Doctor Tesla will be present he will attempt to arrest me and I have no interest in returning to B.P.R.D’s custody.”

 

“ _You always managed to flee before.”_ Slenderman shrugged again. _“I’m not the one desperately seeking to get everyone back, but I’d rather not work with some dewy-eyed newbie so if you’ll find yourself apprehended, I will assist in your absconding.”_

 

“That sounds encouraging.” Kroenen nodded. “And it’s not as if I have anything better to do at the moment. We don’t know what happened with Rasputin.”

 

“Ilsa is dead for all we know.” Leopold Kurtz added while putting his now reassembled riffle back on the table.

 

“And Herman… “

 

“Don’t start with von Klempt!” Kurtz cut in. “You’re itching to go looking for him1).”

 

“I am not.” Kroenen sighed. “I just said that I will go with Slenderman.”

 

“Ah, so you found yourself new BFF that can use you, demand favours from you.” Kurtz rolled his beady eyes.

 

“And we’ve talked about this already2), if anything he’s doing me a favour.” Kroenen grunted, this was starting to get old. He knew that Leopold meant well but it was just tiresome. “He never steered me wrong this time and every time I’ve been working for the League it was beneficial.”

 

“Some old books aren’t any gain.”

 

“Really, because you’re benefiting from these books too, you know.”

 

“Right now I’d prefer benefit from not sitting in some shrubs being eaten by swarms of mosquitos, but living a bit.” Kurtz complained.

 

“Leopold, we’re both easily recognisable fugitives.” Kroenen pointed out. “We’re both wanted men. What could you possibly do? Find a woman and have some kids?”

 

“A man can dream.” Kurtz sighed with resignation.

 

“Perhaps one day, but now we’re on the run.” Kroenen shook his head. “When are we meeting Herrin Murray?”

 

“ _I am meeting her today; I will ask her when to bring you.”_

 

“In that case I’d like to ask you for a favour.” Kroenen focused solely on the pale creature. “Would you be able to transport us to my lair in Siberia? It is secured so it should still be habitable.”

 

“ _I can.”_ The faceless entity nodded once.

 

“Wunderbar! 3)” Kroenen sounded as if he was smiling behind his mask.

 

???

 

_Monday. September 18_ _th_ _. New York City._

 

Atomic Robo was a New Yorker, one could even say that he was born New Yorker if not for the fact that technically the correct term was: ‘constructed’. He spent most of his life as a citizen of New York and as such he always appreciated relative discretion of a convenient rooftop. It seemed that was yet another common trait he shared with Hellboy who definitely wasn’t born in New York, in fact Robo was sure he probably didn’t even want to know where exactly Hellboy was born but as far as he was concerned the man knew how to pick roofs for meetings.

 

“… and that’s when Abe told me that he was thinking of fish.” Hellboy grinned. It was a good story.

 

“No wonder.” Robo nodded. “He is one in a way.”

 

“Have I told you the one when I was fist fighting a werewolf?”

 

“The one with the one with king Vold?”

 

“No, the one from Griart in France.”

 

“No, you didn’t tell me that one.” Robo shook his head, but knowing HB it was similar to the one with king Vold.

 

“Okay, so it was 1994… “Hellboy started his story but wouldn’t go past the date when Robo silenced him with a gesture.

 

“Sorry, someone is trying to reach me.” He apologised.

 

“Yeah, you and your in-build stuff.” Hellboy only smirked.

 

“Atomic Robo… Mina?” He started in the space in surprise. “You’re the last person I would expect… Yes I’m fine… Sure I’ve heard of it, it’s all over the news… You what!” He jumped to his feet. “Will you ever learn? I know… really, that’s your explanation? No, I guess not. She won’t? Why? What? Who? Him? And who will? You don’t even know… oh. I guess. Yeah, when? Him too? You don’t know? How about Wednesday? I can wait. Day? Two? Sure. I can. See you then.”

 

“What was that?” HB asked sensing that his robotic friend wasn’t pleased with what he has heard. The displeasure was clear in his voice.

 

“That was the ‘M’ from MI6.” Robo sat back down. “You recon the attacks on Vril in London?”

 

“You know, their actual name is Vril-ya.”

 

“I take this as a ‘yes’. So, there is this investigation and they decided to reactivate the League to work this out. Technical details aside, guess who they’ve invited in?”

 

“Beats me. Tom Cruise?” Hellboy grinned.

 

“Karl Kroenen. She sent Slenderman to fetch her Kroenen.” Robo stood up again and started to pace back and forth. “As if the last two times when he sneaked away wasn’t enough.”

 

“Slick bastard. But think of it that way, you get another chance to catch him.” Hellboy clenched his mismatched fists.

 

“I can try but I’m telling you that he won’t come back willingly and I can’t guarantee you that I’ll be able to drag him back by force. Both previous times he was gone before any of us even noticed. Except perhaps for Slenderman.”

 

“You think that beanpole creep had something to do with that?”

 

“Not the second time.” Robo narrowed his optics in thought. “And the first time? I wouldn’t be surprised but I don’t think he’d admit it.”

 

“Whatever, I want that masked creep locked up. Kurtz too if possible.” Hellboy growled. Kroenen was connected to Rasputin and he hated the Russian Occultist and his lackeys. “I’d love to bash his scull in.” He rubbed his stone fist with his other hand. “But I’ll be happy enough to just keep him and his midget buddy locked up for good.”

 

“Tell you what. I’ll offer him a deal. Better treatment for him and Kurtz, if he’ll surrender. Maybe he’ll go for it; I mean it has to be tiring to be on the run all the time.” Robo proposed. “It won’t hurt to try.”

 

“Anything to keep them away from people, these two are dangerous.” Hellboy nodded.

 

“They haven’t committed any crime so far. At least not one that anyone noticed, and trust me, I’ve been checking.” Robo shrugged. “Neither of them is Skorzeny or von Helsingard but they’re still dangerous.”

 

“From what you told me, Skorzeny is long dead.”

 

“Yeah, but Helsingard manages to come back somehow, although now he’s just a brain in a jar.” Robo admitted.

 

“Well, von Klempt is a head in a jar and now that you mentioned it… “Hellboy pulled a grim face. “You said that Kroenen said that von Helsingard was his professor, and I happen to know that von Klempt and Kroenen were studying together so von Helsingard had to be von Klempt’s professor too. Do you think…? “

 

“That von Helsingard taught von Klempt how to pickle his noggin’? “ Robo asked. “That would be logical, he had to learn from someone… or perhaps von Klempt found a way and showed that trick to his old professor? One way or the other, the end result is the same.”

 

“Don’t you just hate that?” Hellboy sighed and reached for his drink.

 

???

 

_Pegasus Dwarf Irregular Galaxy._

 

Pegasus Galaxy was many things; calm place wasn’t one of them. The civil war between two factions of Wraith4) was going through phases of relative calm and feverish skirmishes. Each side was defending their own territories and tried to take over the areas under the other’s control.

 

At the moment the war entered its calm phase once again which meant that both sides would take their sweet time to recuperate, limiting their activities to sending patrols to the border systems to see if the other party isn’t trying to trespass.

 

A Wraith pilot known to some as Spike was in the middle of performing his duty which in that moment was sitting in his dart’s cockpit and patrolling some boondock of a solar system. In practice it meant that he was bored into stupor. The system he was patrolling was of no use to anyone with even quarter of a functioning brain; even Atlanteans weren’t zealous enough to turn their self-righteous eyes to this part of space. Mainly because not a single human lived on the planet that was hardly habitable in the first place. The only value it held was that of a communication nexus thanks to the Portal on the surface of the nigh-frozen, rust covered, water deprived piece of worthless planet-shaped rock. That was Spike’s opinion anyway, not that everyone cared. He also suspected that the only reason he ended up with an assignment that bad was because his Hive Commander hated him and not-so-secretly enjoyed torturing him.

 

It was ninth hour of his patrol when a lone dark approached him and his wingman much to his surprise. That he wasn’t expecting and instantly a number of possible reasons flew through his mind. Each of the less pleasant than the previous one. He awaited the communication with tension.

 

[[You are requested on the Hive.]] The other Wraith pilot finally opened a channel to his cockpit. [[You are to report on the bridge immediately. I shall replace you for the rest of this patrol.]]

 

“Understood.” Spike replied and took off. Strangely there was no telepathic communication, usually when he was to receive some unpleasant task other pilots would send him their sympathy and sometimes even some encouragement. This time there was no such thing. Perhaps it wasn’t anything bad?

 

???

 

Spike entered the bridge not knowing what to expect. He tried not to cause any trouble. He had his ego and ambition, he worked hard to improve his position but it wasn’t anything dishonourable or even slightly suspicious by Wraith standards. Ever since he was accepted back he played by the rules and stayed as far from trouble as it was possible on a Hive.

 

“You ordered my presence, Commander.” He announced his presence to his Commander even though he knew that the old Wraith knew he was there the moment his dark entered the docking bay.

 

“Atlantis called, they asked for you again.” Todd said without turning from his console. “I assume you’re capable of guessing what they wanted?”

 

“Not again.” Spike complained as politely as he could.

 

“Yes, again. Your last report was most baffling but this is a strange Universe we’re living in. Tell me, what would you say about perspective of working again with the creature you called Slenderman?”

 

“I would say that he and the rest of the League are rotten bastards.” Spike replied but then recalled the boredom of patrolling that empty solar system. “But he’s decent for a creature as strange as he is.”

 

“Good. You will be joining them shortly. We’re on our way to Atlantis.” Todd turned to look at Spike. “You know the route.”

 

Spike didn’t say anything but he politely sent his Commander his very private opinion about the route he was about to take which only amused the old Wraith.

 

TBC.

 

1) The faith of Herman von Klempt between events of “Wake the Devil” and “Conqueror Worm” are unclear but we know that his head wasn’t obliterated, his head was seen in “B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth” which is set way after the both aforementioned arcs (even though I ignore “B.P.R.D. Hell on Earth” for reasons mentioned in “The Cabbala” – it still proves that the head survived and despite all that happened in “Wake the Devil” Karl did forgive von Klempt).

 

2) In London Calling.

 

3) Wonderful.

 

4) See the second trilogy of my fan-made comic book. Available in my gallery on my dA account (link to my dA account is available on my profile on FF.Net, on AO3 ask me in PM, on Tumblr ask me through ask-option).


	5. VI to V

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**VI to V.**

 

???

 

_Wednesday. September 20_ _th._ _MI6 HQ._

 

Atomic Robo was the last member of the original group to arrive in ‘M’ office, or rather waiting at her office’s door. It was mildly annoying. He wasn’t allowed to mope for long though as lovely Miss Moneypenny picked the phone, said to the person on the other end that they were now all present after which she flashed them a megawatt smile and announced that they are presently expected in the ‘M’s’ office.

 

The place hadn’t change in the past year even one bit, down to the very same pot fern on the shelf. And Mina sat there behind her desk as if she spent that entire year there without moving… almost. She wore different clothes and her neck was obscured by turtleneck.

 

She saw them and smiled.

 

“I’m pleased to see that you all made it here.” She laid her hands flat on her desk as if preparing herself for the next move.

 

“I was promised something.” Kroenen stepped forward. “In exchange for my services.”

 

“Of course, Doctor Kroenen.” Mina took a deep breath and opened her laptop. “The contents of this pen drive are yours if you join the Group.” She presented him a small memory stick. “You can examine them on this computer.” She gestured to the laptop and inserted the memory stick.

 

“How accommodating of you.” The German approached the desk and began opening each file, giving it a quick look before moving to the next one. “This is most satisfactory, I wasn't aware that some of these even existed.” He closed the window, disconnected and removed the pen drive, and turned the computer back to Mina. “I am at your service once again.” He said and pocketed the pen drive.

 

“Good.” Mina closed the laptop. “Now that all of you agreed to participate in this mission, I can give you some heads up on... “

 

“Excuse me, one more thing regarding Kroenen.” Robo interrupted as politely as he could. “When you contacted me, I was having a meeting with Hellboy and he authorised me to present an offer to Kroenen in exchange for his and Leopold Kurtz's surrender.”

 

“I'm not interested.” Kroenen instantly rejected the offer.

 

“You haven't even heard it yet.” Robo protested.

 

“You don't have anything to offer that I may want.” Kroenen shrugged. “And neither does Leopold.”

 

“Shouldn't you consult him first, before rejecting it in his name?” Robo asked.

 

“To what purpose? You cannot offer us anything that any of us may desire because we already have it.”

 

“And what is that?” Robo started to get angry.

 

“Freedom.” Kroenen answered shortly.

 

“And that’s coming from you.” Robo crossed his arms. He felt like starting a fight.

 

“And that’s enough.” Mina stepped in before the situation could escalate. “Robo, don’t start a fight that you know will lead you nowhere.”

 

“How do you know it will lead me nowhere?” The robot crossed his massive arms.

 

“Because you’re starting it with your teammate. You don’t have to like him but I would greatly appreciate if you could act as a professional that I know you are.” She replied without any real anger. “And doctor Kroenen, would you please stop egging doctor Tesla on, it will end in tears and, we both know, not his.”

 

Before anyone could reply to that the phone on ‘M’s’ desk rang. Mina glared at it for a second but it wouldn’t stop. She answered it and pulled a face. Apparently she wasn’t pleased.

 

“Hold for a moment.” She said to the receiver. “And this was what I wanted to tell you before that ridiculous exchange took place and consumed all the time we had for that purpose. The Director of MI5 and your new leader are waiting outside of my office right now.” She lifted the receiver back to her ear and sighed. “Ask them in Miss Moneypenny.”

 

The door opened and two people entered. One of them was an elegant looking middle aged man with greying dirty blond hair and steely blue eyes. The other one was an attractive southern Asian looking woman in her forties.

 

“Chief.” The MI5 Director smiled and shook her hand.

 

“Director.” Mina shook his hand. “Inspector.” She reached to the other woman1).

 

“Chief.” The Inspector nodded to Mina.

 

“Director, Inspector.” Mina addressed both her guests. “These are my agents that belonged to Portico Group.” She gestured to the four men2). “In the order of their original recruitment, these are: doctor Atomic Robo Tesla, the CEO of Tesladyne; Spike a pilot from the alien race known as Wraith; professor doctor Karl Ruprecht Kroenen, a surgeon and Occultist; and least but not last Slenderman.” She turned to her agents. “And these are Director of MI5 and Inspector Maggie Habib3), from the Yard.”

 

“And she has past experience working with my agents so she won’t have any problems adjusting.” The Director nodded.

 

“You do realise that these are no ordinary agents.” Mina gave her MI5 counterpart a sceptical look. “It’s called the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen for a reason.”

 

“Excuse me.” Inspector Habib interjected politely. “But I am present and I believe I can handle this just fine.”

 

The Director smirked to Mina in silent ‘watch her’ while the four men stared at the Inspector not unlike bunch of schoolboys at a new, attractive teacher.

 

“Off course, Inspector. If M5 vouches for you then I am left with no other choice but to trust his assessment.” Mina smiled politely to the woman. “Why won’t you brief your new subordinates then?”

 

“Okay. As you are probably aware… Or not.” She gave her new teammates critical look. “In past two months we have had a series of vicious attacks on Vril citizens. These attacks are clearly xenophobic in nature. MO is always the same: a lone victim attacked on their way to or from home, usually early in the morning or late in the evening by a group of three or four masked European males. The victims’ backgrounds are varying. The attacks haven’t ceased since last month. The seven initial victims are: a nurse, a stay at home husband, a waitress, a male stripper, a teenage student, a schoolteacher and a rope technician. Ever since it was decided to involve MI5 there were another four attacks: a pizza delivery boy, a cab driver, dance class instructor and a hypermarket cashier.”

 

“Are the attacks escalating in violence?” Kroenen asked.

 

“No. And they are not sexual in nature either.”

 

“Do you have any leads?” Robo was next to question.

 

“No. None of the attacks on Vril are connected to other racial or xenophobic incidents or terrorist attacks that happened recently. The human immigrants that supported Vril protests were there simply as a moral support and to show solidarity.” Inspector Habib explained. “So far it seems that we’re looking at a separate brand of racists.”

 

“And the victims survived?” Spike enquired. His multi-layered voice caught both Habib and M5’s attention.

 

“Yes. Even though they did require medical help.” Habib confirmed.

 

“Slenderman says that if the investigation didn’t bring any conclusions so far we should start over.” Spike passed the message from the pale entity.

 

“Yes.” Robo nodded. “Starting with interviewing the victims.”

 

“That was my line of reasoning as well.” Inspector Habib nodded in agreement. “I have arranged the victims to be brought to our centre of operations, courtesy of MI6, tomorrow.” She nodded to Mina. “We will start then.”

 

TBC.

 

1) According to savoire vivre the entering party speaks their greetings first, the woman always reaches her hand first, if two women shake their hands it’s the older one or the one of higher status that reaches first.

 

2) Unlike with handshakes, the introductions go the other way around. When two people (or two parties) are introduced to each other, the introducer introduces the lower standing party first and the higher standing party last. This is why Mina introduced the boys first – they’re the agents, and only then Maggie who is Group’s leader, and the Director.

It is in good tone to speak couple words about the people we introduce to each other.

In other words the rule is that: the man is introduced to a woman (but she reached her hand to the man); the younger is introduced to the older (the older reached their hand to the younger) – you get the idea.

 

3) She was promoted since the times of the TV Show.


	6. VI

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**VI.**

 

???

 

_Thursday. September 21_ _st_ _. MI6 HQ, Archive Wing._

 

When Maggie Habib entered the conference room of the archive wing, Karl Ruprecht Kroenen was sitting alone at the table, studying something on his computer. The man was turned back to her and seemed completely engrossed.

 

The woman spent the previous evening familiarising herself with her new subordinates’ dossiers and wasn’t thrilled about what she found there. It was to be expected that she wouldn’t be working with altar boys and the brief introductions she received from the MI6 Chief didn’t elate her, but what she found in these people’s files was just... disturbing. Atomic Robo wasn’t much of a surprise, he was a public persona for almost a century now, she knew what to expect although he certainly was of the adventurous kind. The horror started with the next one: Spike. Finding out about his origin was tad shocking but it was nothing compared to his dietary requirements. The man was a space vampire! On the bright side at least he was strong enough to deal with any problem that might arise. The next one was no better. It was a strange mix for Karl Kroenen to be a surgeon and an occultist at the same time, but it paled in comparison that he was also over a century old ex-Nazi. And the cherry on this wacko cake was Slenderman.

 

There was little about their previous leader, but that was of no real consequence to her. Right now Maggie Habib was worried about how she would deal with this mismatched menagerie.

 

“Do you need something from me, Herrin Habib?” Maggie was suddenly startled by Kroenen’s raspy voice. She didn’t notice when he stood up.

 

“Not really, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She replied composing herself. “But since you’re here I will use this opportunity to clear some things out.”

 

“Yes?” He turned to her fully.

 

“Will you have any problems with me as your superior?” She asked bluntly. There was no point in beating about the bush.

 

“Why would I?”

 

“You’re a Nazi.” Maggie replied.

 

“Pardon me, Herrin Habib, but I am an ex-Nazi.” He corrected her.

 

“And there’s a difference?” She remained sceptical.

 

“Absolutely, there is.” Kroenen exclaimed but the look on her face made him continue. “You do not believe that every single German in the Third Reich was a devoted Nazi in both body and soul?” He asked. “There were true believers that remained faithful to the ideology even long after the war, and there were those who became Nazis due to circumstances, out of greed or were simply conformists.”

 

“Which one were you?” Maggie questioned suspiciously.

 

She knew that he wasn’t lying about why people became Nazis, but she was suspicious of this man, a gut feeling that there was more about him than met the eye, which was something considering the fact that every single inch of his skin was covered and that he wore a mask.

 

“Is everything all right Inspector?” Atomic Robo’s voice startled Maggie Habib into almost jumping.

 

“Perfectly in order.” She turned and smiled. “Doctor Kroenen was just telling me about himself.”

 

“Nothing to tell.” Robo growled. His optics shutters rearranged themselves into frown. “He’s a creep. Whatever you think of him, he’s worst.”

 

“Now, now, Doctor Tesla, there’s no need to be so caustic.” Kroenen waved his hand dismissively.

 

“Actually, I’d rather know more about doctor Kroenen, after all I need to know with whom I’m about to work. The files I have received cover only formal records, I want to know if I will have any problems with any of you.”

 

“And I assure you, Herrin Habib, you won’t have problems with me.” Kroenen bowed slightly toward Maggie.

 

“Neither with me.” Spike’s voice caught everyone’s attention. The Wraith stood leaning against the doorframe. “I come from matriarchal society.”

 

“That’s… good I guess.” Maggie blinked in surprise; she didn’t expect to hear that.

 

“Yes, well, Spike isn’t the issue… as long as he keeps his appetite in check.” Robo sounded irritated. “You should be concerned about Kroenen and his objectives.”

 

“Which are?” Maggie lifted her eyebrows.

 

“Kroenen’s charlatan of a Master that goes by the name Rasputin, wants to bring world to its end.” Robo revealed. “Not that it’s any news to me. You’ve no idea how many mooks that wanted to do the same I’ve stopped.”

 

“What?” Maggie’s eyes grew round.

 

“Slander and calumny.” Kroenen stated. “Our goal is to allow the nature to run its course. Such is the order of things. Call it the circle of life if you feel overly poetic.”

 

“By genocide.” Robo huffed through his vents.

 

“By natural cycle of extinction and evolution.” Kroenen sighed. “I thought we’ve discussed this on our first mission when we went to meet Slenderman.1)”

 

“I recall that conversation.” Spike agreed. “And Slenderman recalls it as well. He also wants to start the work day already.”

 

Everyone turned to see Slenderman sitting behind the table, next to where Kroenen sat with his computer. The creature leaned back in the chair with his arms behind his head looking bored.

 

“And he is right; we should do what we were assembled for.” Maggie nodded and refrained from adding ‘before this argument goes physical’.

 

“All right, so how’s the battle plan?” Robo chose to follow the leader.

 

“We have seven victims to work with and seven crime scenes. Kroenen, Robo and I will talk to the victims while Slenderman and Spike will work their way through the files.” Maggie opened a cabinet with seven boxes of paperwork. “Spike and Slenderman will stay in here while we will interview the victims is separate rooms.” She pulled one folder out of each box. “You boys will work two victims each and I will take three.” He handed the folders to both men.

 

“Anything we should know about these interviews?” Robo asked.

 

“Yes. Usually the initial interview’s circumstances are far from comfortable so the victims don’t feel secure enough to disclose all details of the attack. Make sure that is not the case with you. Make sure that they feel safe and accepted, build trust, reassure them that the attack was not their fault but inform them that they need to tell you every detail even if they’re embarrassed. Ask about everything but be sensitive, push but not too hard, we don’t want to intimidate the victims. Record everything they say, there will be tape recorders in the rooms that you can use. That’s pretty much it.”

 

“How long do we have before the victims will arrive?” Kroenen asked before Robo could speak.

 

“Half an hour so I suggest you go and prepare yourself. There will be agent waiting for us; we will tell him which victims each of us has so he can lead them to the right room when they will arrive.” Maggie moved to the exit. “Do you have any questions?” She turned to both Spike and Slenderman.

 

“Yes, what exactly do you want for us to do?” Spike asked eyeing the boxes.

 

“You have all the materials in here; there is a map and a whiteboard in the corner. Create a timeline and a map for the attacks.” Maggie instructed. “There are photographs so compare the crime scenes. Make visual aid for the investigation.”

 

???

 

Maggie Habib rubbed her face, she managed to interview two of her three victims and she needed a break. She spent over two hours talking to them and her head was starting to ache. In her years as a Policewoman she saw all faces of violence but she never got used to it. It always triggered something deep inside of her, some kind of a protest against what she saw.

 

She stood up deciding that she could use a glass of water to cool down the slowly building rage within her. She poured herself a cup and started to down it slowly when she heard a knock to her door. It had to be the next victim; she quickly swallowed the last gulp.

 

“Come in.” She called.

 

In walked a middle age looking Vril. Like all the Vril she ever saw he had large eyes that reminded her of a tarsier eyes, except not as bulging. They were even the right, soft honey-brown colour. He was slender and looked nimble, which was normal for all Vril men. He lacked any hair but that was also normal. He wore casual clothes, pair of blue jeans, sneakers and a hoodie. The hoodie was a preferred top for Vril due to their backs where most of them used to have wings, removal of which became a common practice among those who were born on the surface.

 

“Mr Hamish Arrews?” She asked. The names were another peculiarity, all surface-born Vril were given human names after their parents adapted human surnames. Their parents claimed it was so that there was no disharmony because Vril names would not fit human surnames and in their young, vulnerable age such a thing would be bad for their development. Maggie thought that it was all cock and bull story.

 

The man nodded. He was oddly shy.

 

“Please, have a seat.” Maggie gestured to a chair.

 

He sat down and looked around but he didn’t look curious. He seemed spooked if anything.

 

“Would you like something to drink?” She asked. “Tea perhaps?”

 

“No, thank you. I don’t think it would do me any good.” He politely refused. His voice was soft and pleasant.

 

Maggie nodded. He was probably right, tea was just as stimulating to Vril as coffee was to humans and the poor man was already jittery.

 

“All right, why don’t we start then?” She proposed. “You probably would like to be done with it as soon as possible, Mr Arrews?”

 

“I would like not having to go through this again at all.” He replied honestly. “It’s not exactly a pleasant memory.”

 

“I realise that, but in order to capture these people, we need to have all the information we can. My Group just got this investigation and while we received the police reports that include the initial testimonies of everyone who was attacked, we need to have our own, detailed interviews.”

 

“Why? I’ve already told everything.”

 

“Yes, I am aware but I would like to go through this independently, I want to ask you questions that the Constables may have not asked.” Maggie leaned toward the man. “We will take as long as you will need and I want you to give me as precise and honest answers as you can, even if you don’t think that something matters.”

 

“Where do you want me to start?” The man asked without any enthusiasm.

 

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened, start with how you found yourself in that neighbourhood and go from there, Mr Arrews.” Maggie proposed.

 

Hamish Arrews looked at the human woman in front of him and sighed. He told it three times already and goodness knew how many times he would have to repeat it while all he really wanted was to forget about it.

 

“I was walking from the club I work as a… as a dancer.” He started. “It was late at night but that’s the usual time I end my work. I always have to change into my street clothes after my performance, that night it took me fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes. I parted my way with other dancers and went my own way. I walked past two lights when I noticed that something was off. Two men were walking behind me at a distance and I thought that they must’ve been just two guys going home from a pub but then I remembered of the attacks and decided that it was better not to take any chances. Normally I take the short route home, it includes a shortcut through the alley the Constables found me in but I decided to skip it, the way I was thinking ten minutes wasn’t worth risking something ugly so I decided to just walk past it and go around. All that time the two men were walking behind me, talking about something but I paid them no mind.” He took a slightly shaky breath. “I was just passing the alley when I felt that someone pulled me into the shadows. At first I couldn’t tell how many of them were there, it was dark; they wore dark clothes and couldn’t exactly take a good look. Before I could make a sound someone punched me in the stomach and someone else covered my lips so I wouldn’t yell. I could see the two men walks past the alley; they were still talking to each other. When they vanished the one that held me let me go and someone punched me in the face. I tried to fight back but there were too many of them, I can’t really be sure exactly how many of them were there but I counted three men beating me. If there were more they didn’t come close. The ones that I could see punched me few times and when I tried to fight back and run away, they just threw me on the ground and kicked me some more. One thing I can be sure of is that they had heavy boots. I don’t know how long it lasted really, but they were calling me names and when they finished they just walked away. I remember crawling but I don’t remember what happened next. At the hospital they told me that two Constables found me, one of them being a son of my neighbour.”

 

Maggie glared at the Vril for a moment, taking in everything he said. It was all consistent with what was in the police report and left her with very little to go by.

 

“Have you seen their faces?” She asked.

 

“They wore ski masks. But I think they had light skin tone.” He answered. “They were tall and well built.”

 

“Was there anything odd, something you thought that was out of place about them or their look? Anything, even something that you think is irrelevant or something that you just remembered after you were interviewed?” She tried different approach.

 

“Yes. I told it the first time but the Constable who interrogated me ignored it.” Mr Arrews blinked couple of times in thought. “I couldn’t tell exactly what kind of boots they wore, but I could see that they had white laces.”

 

“Oh… This is not in the report I have.” Maggie scanned the folder she had. “This may be important Mr Arrews, thank you.”

 

“Is that all?” The man asked. He really wanted to go home. Thanks to his Vril physiology he healed a lot faster than a human would and his bruises were now all gone, but the memory was just as fresh as it would be in a human, and that was not pleasant.

 

“You gave me as good description of your attack as they come. And for the moment I cannot think of anything else that I could ask you about.” She stood up and reached her hand. “Thank you for your help. If I will have any more questions I will contact you. If you have any questions you have our phone number.”

 

“Yes, I have.” He shook her hand. “Good bye.” He said and left.

 

Maggie sat down and drummed her fingers on the table. So far it was clear that all the victims were targeted and it was clear that someone took their time to learn of their daily routines to be able to catch them in the most convenient place and time.

 

She finally stood up, took her folder and recorder and walked out of the room where she almost bumped into Robo. The robot was just walking to the conference room.

 

“Robo, how did it go?” She asked.

 

“Pretty well. I have finished already. How about you?”

 

“Same.” She sighed. “I didn’t get much tough. One victim told me that they wore white laces with their heavy boots though, I think we both know what that means.2)”

 

“I’ve got something better.” Robo said and he sounded as if he was smiling. “One of the earliest victims, the nurse, said that she saw the face of one of the perps. She said that when they thought she was out cold one of them took his mask off.”

 

“That’s great!” Maggie’s eyes grew round. “Did she recognise his face?”

 

“She didn’t but I’ve sent her to a sketch artist.” Robo waved his hand somewhere down the hall. “The initial report from her first interview had it that she gave the description of the perp, but that’s all. I thought that perhaps we could get a bit more out of her.”

 

“It’s been some time since her attack, but perhaps we’ll get something out of it.” Maggie nodded. “Vril tend to have good memory. How about Kroenen?”

 

“He’s still in there, his last witness is taking him some time, it’s the teen girl.” Robo nodded at the door to Kroenen’s room. “It may take a while. I don’t know why he’s having the teenage, they’re vulnerable, I can’t see how he’s adequate to handle a kid like that.”

 

“He’ll do just fine.”

 

“Why not me? Or you?”

 

“Because you’re famous, comparable to a rock star, the last thing anyone needs is a teenage girl swooning over you instead of testifying.” Maggie smirked when she saw Robo’s eyes glowing a bit brighter. “And it could be difficult for her to talk to me, even though I’m a woman. Kroenen is a doctor so he can easy tell if she’s getting overly stressed and he wears that mask of his. It’ll be easier for her to dissociate from someone whose face she can’t see and make her more open.”

 

“I’d say that if anything that mask will make her more intimidated.” Robo disagreed.

 

“It depends. That’s the magic of the masks – all depends on the wearer and how they want to be seen.” Maggie shook her head. “When we cannot see someone’s face we switch to the tone of their voice and their body language. With a mask on, we can become anyone and anything if you know how to move, how to sit, stand, gesticulate. You do it all the time without noticing it, only you still have expressive eyes to show your mood and intentions. Take that away and all you have is your body language.”

 

Robo looked down at himself. He was perfectly aware that he lacked facial expressions. He made it a point few times that he had no mouth (not that it ever stopped him before3) from doing stuff). He just never thought that he compensated with body language… well, maybe a little.

 

He was about to retort when Kroenen opened the door and poked his head out.

 

“Ah, Herrin Habib, I heard your voice.” He said. “I believe I need a sketch artist.”

 

“What? Another?” Maggie jaw dropped.

 

“Yes.” He walked out of the room and closed the door. “It would seem that this victim saw one of the attackers without his mask. She claims that she initially managed to free herself from their grasp thanks to the fact that she is petite. She ran but she bumped into one of them who were standing guard. He didn’t have a mask on and she saw his face when he caught her and punched her. She said that she remembered him well because he’s the one that broke her jaw.”

 

“Have you finished your interview with her?” Maggie asked.

 

“Yes for most part. I asked her to give me as detailed description as she could when I heard your voice.” Kroenen admitted.

 

“That’s great. Our sketch artist is now busy but it the meantime I’ll have a Constable to come here and show her some photographs, perhaps she will recognise someone. If she will see him on the photos then we’ll see if Robo’s nurse victim can identify anyone the same way. If not then she’ll sit with the sketch artist.” Maggie decided. “Kroenen, go and tell the girl, I’ll get a Constable.”

 

“Yes, Herrin Habib.” Kroenen snapped his heels and returned to the room.

 

“Robo, go and tell the boys that we’ll be with them in a moment.” Maggie pointed at the conference room and hurried away in search of a Constable.

 

TBC.

 

1) The Cabbala, chapter 6.

 

2) For those who don’t know the colour of laces one wears with their combat boots is important. And no, I’m not talking about the juvenile wannabes that do unspeakable things with their laces. I mean authentic people that follow colour code. White laces are reserved for skinheads and skinheads alone.

Red laces are for anarchists. Pink laces are for punks (and no real punk will mix their pink laces with other colours, it HAS to be pink). Black laces are classic and are typical for those who don’t feel the need to identify themselves with anarchists or punks but share some of all of their views and simply like to listen to metal and rock (it’s noteworthy that rockers will wear combat boots but also anything else they so please, because: rock’n’roll baby!).

Bet you didn’t know all that! Well, now you do.

 

3) Namely from kissing. And he enjoyed it. It was showed in “Deadly Art of Science.” Still, he can’t drink.


	7. ID

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**ID.**

 

???

 

_Thursday. September 21_ _st_ _. MI6 HQ, Archive Wing._

 

Spike and Slenderman weren’t lazing off while others were interviewing the victims. When Maggie Habib, Karl Kroenen and Atomic Robo entered the conference room they saw two large whiteboards and a map set up at one end of the room. Both whiteboards were covered with pictures, drawings and notes. All notes were made in elegant and neat handwriting. Slenderman was still holding the marker.

 

The conference table was covered with opened folders. Each folder contents were displayed in orderly fashion, upon closer look they were also sorted chronologically, forming a timeline.

 

The map had colourful pins stuck in it; all pins of the same colour were connected with matching colour threads.

 

“I see you were busy.” Maggie noted with appreciation. “This looks impressive. Have you discovered anything?”

 

“Nothing that we didn’t know already.” Spike shrugged. “Attacks are almost identical each time. The attackers choose the place and time carefully but they don’t limit themselves to any particular time of day. Each time they strike the area is empty so there’s no one who could interrupt them and they’re fast. They do not prolong their attacks, as soon as the victim is unconscious or almost unconscious they flee.”

 

“They never attack in the City or areas with good surveillance.” Kroenen pointed to the map. “They’re mobile but with London’s infrastructure it’s not a big feat.”

 

“And they attack at irregular intervals.” Robo added. “My guess is that they attack whenever it’s convenient for them.”

 

“Slender says that they pick their victims at random but these attacks are never performed on impulse. He says that when they find a convenient victim they observe them to learn their routines.” Spike passed Slenderman’s message. “He thinks that they either pick a Vril and watch them for a day or two before attack or they watch a couple of Vril and then decide which of them attack at what time.”

 

“And they move to strike when they’re ready.” Maggie nodded. “We have two of the victims saying that they saw faces of the attackers so perhaps they will be able to identify them or at least give us description.” She walked to the map. “Tell me about this.”

 

“I’ve put red pins at the places of the attacks.” Spike started to explain. “Blue pins mark communication stations that connect all the attack sites.” Gestured at the marks. “The black pins are where the victims work or learn while white are in the locations where they live. Yellow ones show the destinations where they were going.”

 

“Interesting.” Maggie studied the map for a second. “The victims follow these routes regularly so it was easy to catch them. But this only show how easy was for the perps to attack. Look at how close the bus stops and tubes stations are to sites of the attacks.”

 

“Oh, but the attacks themselves tell me a lot.” Kroenen spoke from his spot at one of the whiteboards. “With the description given us by the victims and their method of… conducting the injuries, I can guess what kind of people we’re dealing with.”

 

“You’re the MD here so why won’t you enlighten us?” Robo rolled his eyes. He already knew that they were dealing with well-built cowards.

 

“Well-built cowards.” Kroenen shrugged.

 

“Ha.” Robo exclaimed. “I knew that without your expertise.”

 

“I haven’t finish, Doctor Tesla.” Kroenen seemed unfazed by the mock. “They are tall and heavy, but their favourite method of dealing blows is by kicking. Judging by their description they have to be strong yet they do not use their full strength. The only logical conclusion is because they do not know how to. They lack any form of training, they only know how to kick but nothing else.”

 

“The also punch.” Maggie noted.

 

“But how do they punch? From what I’ve heard they only swing their arms and fists while proper punch goes from the hip, engages the shoulders, entire body to max out the impact.” Kroenen explained.

 

“Hate to agree with him, but he’s right. It’s basically physics.” Robo nodded. “Vril aren’t heavy built but these mooks didn’t cause much damage by punching, most of it was kicking.”

 

“Yes. All my interviews indicated that they only punched the victims few times at first before throwing them on the ground and kicking.” Maggie agreed.

 

“Vril men are smaller than women and still these skinheads had to throw them on the ground to beat them.” Kroenen continued. “They prefer kicking because for them it’s the easiest and most efficient way of causing damage to someone.”

 

“So, we’re looking at some home-grown brutes.” Robo summed it up. “Maybe they go to some bodybuilding gym but they certainly don’t practice boxing.”

 

“Or any form of martial arts.” Spike added while Slenderman wrote ‘not boxers’ on the whiteboard.

 

“Or they really suck at it.” Maggie smirked. “That’s already something.”

 

She was about to say something more but she was interrupted by knocking at the door followed by one of the Constables poking his head in.

 

“Excuse me; we have an ID from one of the victims.” He said.

 

“And the other one?” Maggie asked.

 

“She’s still looking through the pictures.” He replied.

 

“Good, run the ID through all the data bases to see if there’s any connections. Do you have his file?”

 

“Yes Inspector.” The Constable handed her a yellow folder and left.

 

“Let’s see. This one’s identified by the schoolgirl.” She opened the folder. “There’s not much here… Evan Brown, noted for vandalism mostly and robbing a newspaper stall.” She walked to the whiteboard and pinned the picture of the perp below photo of the teen victim.

 

Evan Brown was tall, heavy man with short blonde hair and grey eyes. He would look similar to many other men if not for the fact that he had light eyebrows and eyelashes along with badly broken nose.

 

“Are there any mentions of him collaborating with any racist or fascist group?” Robo asked.

 

“No, no such thing.” Maggie looked into the folder again. “He either kept it a secret of he only went racist recently. Perhaps when he was in prison?”

 

“Let’s see if any connection will pop out from the search or if the other victim will identify him or someone else.” Robo gave the photo a closer look. “It would be good if we had more than just one start point to work with.”

 

The next half an hour was utterly unproductive. Maggie Habib excused herself and left for lunch. Spike was rendered semi-conscious out of sheer boredom pretty soon after she left while Robo studied the map and whiteboards in silence. Slenderman melted into the background and Kroenen chose to stare at the view behind the window.

 

“I brought you some tea.” Maggie walked into the room with three cups of steaming beverage for Kroenen, Spike and Slenderman. She wasn’t sure if Slenderman drank tea but she decided to get one for him as well just in case he did.

 

“Thank you Herrin Habib.” Kroenen accepted the tea. “How thoughtful of you.”

 

“Any news?” She asked passing the tea round.

 

“One of the Constables brought this in.” Spike opened his eyes and pointed at a folder lying on the verge of the table. “They’re still searching for connections though.” He reached for the cup.

 

“We didn’t open it yet, decided to wait for you.” Kroenen admitted pouring contents of two sugar packets into his cup.

 

“You should look it over.” Maggie sighed.

 

“Five minutes won’t make any difference.” Spike shrugged and took a sip of his tea.

 

“Fine, let’s see.” Maggie opened the folder ignoring Slenderman reaching for the sugar packets. “One Philip Bennings, arrested for vandalism last year… and check this… he was caught drunk with two spray cans of black and white paint, at the end of line of phone booths that were ‘adorned’ by white circles with black Nazi swastikas, claiming that all phones in UK belong to Nazis.”

 

“This guy doesn’t look to be a sublime thinker.” Robo stated peeking over Maggie’s shoulder. “There’s no way he would come up with such an idea on his own. He was caught drunk so I bet someone told him to do this and he just went.” He took the picture and walked to the whiteboard. “What are the chances that he’s still hanging around the same people?” He put the picture below the nurse’s.

 

He looked at the Slenderman but the faceless being was busy pouring all the sugar packets into his tea, one at a time.

 

“Maybe these two know each other?” He poked his finger at Evan Brown and then wrote ‘not smart’ under Bennings’ photo.

 

“Brown wasn’t noted for being a skinhead, but Bennings was… there has to be connection between these two and we know that there were more attackers than just these two.” Maggie crossed her arms. “They weren’t arrested at the same time but perhaps they have common friends.”

 

She looked at the photo of Philip Bennings. He was as bald as a knee and had pale blue eyes but his eyebrows were dark. His face seemed slightly red but not from exposure to the elements, it was either made when he was still drunk or he was the type that blushed all the time.

 

They had to wait for another hour for the throughout search of databases but when it was done it showed no results. The two identified perpetrators weren’t connected to any known neo-Nazi, chauvinist or racist organisation, and they didn’t seem to have any connections to each other. At least official ones.

 

“Wait.” Atomic Robo did his best to snap his fingers. “Some of the terrorists from France and Belgium were reported to contact using gaming platforms. Maybe these here do the same? Any conversations in the multiplayer mode are separate from chat rooms, e-mail accounts or any social media sites.”

 

“Maybe? But Bennings doesn’t seem to be type to be passionate about strategy or tactics.” Maggie grimaced at the photo of the second perp.

 

“He doesn’t have to.” Kroenen pointed out. “All he has to be is proud owner of a gaming platform and be invited to play with others.”

 

“And it leads us nowhere. Even if they have met or organised themselves via multiplayer it doesn’t help us much.” Maggie massaged her temples. “We don’t know which platform they’re using, what they’re playing or even their usernames.”

 

“We can interrogate the two that we have identified.” Spike tapped the whiteboard.

 

“What if they’ll lie?” Robo questioned.

 

“I’m a telepath.” Spike stated.

 

“Are you good enough to probe their minds?” Kroenen asked leaning toward the Wraith.

 

“Not the way a Queen could, only females are strong enough telepaths.” Spike admitted. “The only male I know that comes close to that is my Commander but he has age and experience to back him up.” He added. “But I could definitely tell if they were lying or holding back information, especially if they’re not trained to withstand interrogation.”

 

“The problem is that they may only know each other by screen names and not their real names.” Robo shook his head. “And that’s where the problems begin.”

 

“How come?” Spike cocked his head.

 

“If we arrest them and they won’t give up their chums, their disappearance will alert everyone in their band. If we release them, they will alert their buddies for sure.” Maggie explained. “If we can force them to contact their crowd, we have no way of preventing them to warn them anyway. Unless you can control them?”

 

“No.” Spike sighed with irritation.

 

“Wait. If we can scare them Slender will be able to read their minds. He did that with jihadists.” Robo perked up.

 

Slenderman’s head jerked up from his cup of tea which he was still nursing, and moved to look in Spike’s direction.

 

“He says that he can try but he won’t be able to find something that is not there. If they really don’t know their comrades names he won’t be able to help.” Spike passed Slenderman’s words. “And he only sees the thoughts that someone is actively thinking, even if they do know their comrades names but won’t be thinking of them when scared, it still won’t work.”

 

“It’s all for nothing. If we scare them off they will definitely go into hiding and who knows when and where they will strike again.” Maggie stood up. “No, I don’t want to risk muffing it; we need to ambush them to get as many of these thugs as possible. Only then we can interrogate them and have a good chance to crack their group entirely.”

 

“What do you propose Herrin Habib?” Kroenen leaned back in his chair and rested the front of his mask on his joined fingers.

 

“These are clearly xenophobes and racists, and not closeted ones, they act out their hate. These types go into marches of their own and into counter manifestations where they throw eggs, rocks and start fights.” Maggie rubbed her hands together. “They will show on the next Vril support manifestation, perhaps even pro-immigration event. We’ll get them then.”

 

“You’re assuming these two will show up.” Robo nodded at the whiteboard with pictures of the two perps.

 

“If they won’t show we still have their names and addresses and we can arrest them at any time.” Maggie shrugged. “But they don’t know that and their behave shows that they hate Vril so I don’t think they’ll pass an opportunity to spill some of that hate out. You know that haters will hate.”

 

“I’d still feel better if we had them in custody.” Robo insisted.

 

“How about I’ll have someone discreetly observe these two?” Maggie proposed. “I’ll get two teams to watch their places and report any movements.”

 

“I guess it’ll have to work.” Robo knew that he had to accept what victory he was offered.

 

“That leaves only one issue.” Kroenen pointed out. “Just when exactly next Vril support gathering will take place?”

 

“I’ll have it checked out.” Maggie promised. “Hopefully it will be sometimes soon.”

 

“And if not?” Spike asked.

 

“Then I’ll talk to some people and ask them if they feel like organising one.” Maggie smiled.

 

TBC.


	8. ODESSA

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**ODESSA.**

 

???

 

_Saturday. September 23_ _rd_ _. The rally._

 

Unfortunately for the group the addresses listed in both identified perps' files belonged to their parents and not them. A short observation confirmed that neither of the two lived there rendering both addresses useful only if they would pay their families a visit. Maggie decided to leave that option as a backup plan.

 

The League's luck wasn't much better with the pro-Vril marches as none was scheduled to happen in the near future, luckily however there was a rally planned for the nearest weekend to put some pressure into the investigation of the attacks. That was their chance.

 

The organisers weren’t thrilled by the idea of any kind of Special Forces or police’s presence on the rally but after being told that the police and agents would be present as means to safeguarding the attending people from any hostile opposing elements in the face of recent attacks; they yielded. No one wanted to be responsible for someone ending in a hospital due to lack of proper security.

 

???

 

“I really don’t see how I can’t be out there.” Robo protested.

 

The Group, minus Slenderman, sat in a surveillance van and Maggie was deciding who would stay behind with surveillance technician, maintaining radio contact and who would be out, observing the crowd. She decided that Robo would be the one left behind.

 

“Really Robo, do I really have to explain this to you?” The Inspector gave the robot rather dull stare.

 

“Yes, yes you do. I really fail to see why letting out two weird looking guys is okay. You tell me that I will attract attention, but they won’t?” Robo gestured at both Spike and Kroenen. “For cryin’ out loud, one is green, GREEN, and the other is wearing mask and full body suit!”

 

“There are plenty of weird looking people out there. Being green isn’t that strange on this rally.” Maggie pointed out just as a young man with orange face paint walked pass the van. “And Kroenen is dressed up as an antiterrorist.”

 

The aforementioned German was currently adjusting straps on his bulletproof vest and seemed to ignore the whole conversation.

 

“Speaking of which. How can you trust him out on his own?” Robo questioned. “He escaped before, how do you know he won’t take a French leave1)?”

 

“Pardon me, but I am here. You can talk to me.” Kroenen spoke. “And to answer that question, Herrin Habib can trust me not to take the French leave.” He bowed his head to Maggie. “I have agreed to be part of this assembly once more and I have received my reward. In other words, I have been hired to do my job and my job I shall do.”

 

“There, you have it.” Maggie shrugged. “He's been paid and he'll perform.”

 

“Oh, he will. I’m just not entirely sure about quality of this performance.” Robo growled.

 

“I know you’d rather be in the field, Robo, but again we have a crowd there and you’re famous. We don’t want this turn from a rally into autograph signing.” Maggie patted Robo’s back. “That would scare our perps off.”

 

“I know.” Robo sighed through his vents. “I’ve always been famous but I feel that in the past it was easier.”

 

“Blame the social media.” Kroenen quipped.

 

“Don’t you start.” Robo casted him an angry look.

 

“He is correct.” Spike turned from his spot next to the driver. “As your ‘internet’ becomes more and more accessible the information flow increases but the demand for information increases as well, people become more and more hungry for new sensational news until the demand reaches the point when even spotting someone influential or famous becomes valuable news even if it wouldn’t be anything exciting before.”

 

“Thank you for your frightfully adequate analysis, Spike.” Maggie covered her eyes. Working with this bunch was truly one of a kind experience. “Now, go!”

 

???

 

The ‘hunt’ was surprisingly successful. Even more surprisingly it was Robo who managed to spot the two identified perps via the surveillance video feed. They were indeed part of the group that was opposing the rally and were held by the police at a distance. It didn’t stop them from throwing few stones which only helped – Maggie now had a perfect excuse to arrest whole bunch of them. And she promptly did.

 

The ones the two identified perpetrators were seen talking to were singled out of the arrested bunch and discreetly transported to the MI6 HQ for interrogation.

 

???

 

_MI6 HQ, the Archive Wing._

 

Philip Bennings sat at a small table in what served as the interrogation room and looked around. He was a large man, hulking even so when he sat at normal sized table on a regular chair he looked like an adult sitting at a kiddie table. It was moderately amusing, but they weren’t there to have some laugh.

 

Maggie Habib instantaneously realised that the picture she saw did not give this man justice… or rather gave him too much justice. His ears were permanently red while his face looked as if he just spent an hour on a freezing weather, his eyes resembled two slightly poached eggs2) – they were pale, watery and devoid of any sharpness.

 

She elected to stand next to Bennings while Kroenen sat in front of him and rested his chin on the tips of his joined fingers, silently observing the other man.

 

“My name is Inspector Habib.” She said after a moment of silence. “And this is Doctor Kroenen.” He gestured to the masked German. “Do you understand why you’re here?”

 

“Yeah, that’s because them Vril lovers.” He spoke slowly.

 

“No. It’s because you and your friends were throwing rocks at them.” Maggie replied. She knew that this type of people would blame everything on the ones they perceived as enemies. It was never their fault.

 

“It’s their fault, why did they come there?” Bennings replied, confirming Maggie’s suspicions.

 

“If you knew they were there, why did you come as well?” She asked. “You don’t like them, why not avoid them?”

 

“This ain’t their town, they can’t come and gather in no place they like.” He replied and Maggie carefully avoided rolling her eyes. She could almost hear what Inspector Fowler – her old Inspector from the time when she was still a young Constable – would say about the sentence she just heard.

 

“Actually, they can.” It was Kroenen who finally decided to speak.

 

“They are either citizens or residents.” Maggie added.

 

“Not for long. UK will leave the Union and they all will have to leave.” Bennings smiled.

 

“No, Philip, they won’t.” Kroenen leaned back in his chair but his eyes or rather mask never left Bennings’ face.

 

“It’s a reciprocal policy. If UK citizens are to retain their rights and double UE citizenships, the UK has to extent the same courtesy to the UE.” Maggie added. It was true that the details of Brexit were negotiated and everyone argued mostly about money, but the truth was that both UR and UK had to play fair about people.

 

“And Vril are UK citizens.” Kroenen nodded once.

 

In response Bennings blinked couple of times and spat a line of ugly if not unimaginative profanities. Maggie and Kroenen looked at each other and left without comment.

 

On the other side of the door they walked to the two-way mirror and observed the man. His naturally pink complexion now turned into red and if his ears would become any more red they would start to radiate light.

 

“That went well.” Maggie sighed and observed Bennings who was now starting to calm down.

 

“It would seem that we have overestimated his intelligence.” Kroenen crossed his arms. “Which is a shame, provoking him to rant about how his gang is going to force immigrants and Vril to leave the islands seemed to be the best way to get anything out of him.”

 

“It still was a long shot.” Maggie shrugged. “Look at him; he looks like he has problems with tying his shoe laces.”

 

“He’s not the mastermind, that much is certain.” Kroenen agreed.

 

“What makes young people to join skinheads and other racists?” The woman pondered out loud. She spent majority of her adult life as a policewoman, saw all sorts of crimes and still couldn’t understand what made people so hateful.

 

“There are as many reasons as there are people.” The German replied. “Sometimes they truly believe in what they’re told, sometimes they have their own, ulterior motives.”

 

“Spoken from experience?”

 

“Strange was the path that destiny led us to our true Master.3)” He said. “Stranger yet is the one that the Master led us after that.”

 

“What do you mean?” Maggie gave him surprised look.

 

“I was a member of… an association that, you may say, led my accomplices and me into… Himmler’s ‘loving embrace’ who introduced us to our Master who in turn talked us into joining SS.”

 

“So you became a Nazi by accident?” Maggie blinked with surprise. That sounded positively outlandish4).

 

“Oh, absolutely not. Perhaps if I was regular soldier but for an ex-Waffen SS Oberststurbmannführer that would be a silly thing to claim.” He barked in laughter. “SS was all about ‘kill a Jew and enslave a Slav’ but my associates and I were all about ‘give me all the resources we can’t otherwise obtain for our experiments’. Our Master thought that the SS would serve that purpose perfectly, and Himmler was obsessed with Occult, it was clear that he would never deny us. And never deny us he did which in turn allowed some of us to survive to this day.”

 

“So, you had an ulterior motive.” Maggie blinked. “You served your own agenda.” She started to understand why Robo was so wary of this man.

 

“I still do, first and foremost.” He laughed again but this time it sounded more like cough. “Don’t worry, Herrin Habib, as I said before, I was hired and I am committed.”

 

Maggie didn’t reply, instead she glared at the man behind the glass. Bennings remained seated but he was now looking at the mirror.

 

“Perhaps Doctor Tesla and Spike will be more fortunate?” Kroenen broke the sudden silence.

 

They turned around to face another two-way mirror behind which Robo and Spike were interrogating Evan Brown.

 

???

 

“If you think that we won’t find out anything, buddy, you’re so wrong.” Robo pointed his finger straight into Brown’s face.

 

He was leaning at the table across the arrested man. Spike was standing directly behind Brown and saying nothing, merely maintaining menacing presence.

 

“We have your chum, Bennings, and three others in here and you’re in deep one. You think that they’re all be tight lipped?” Robo continued. “We’re interrogating Bennings right now and he doesn’t strike me as intellectualist, what are the odds that someone will outsmart him? How do you think? And your other three amigos will sing as well. You see it’s the ‘everybody for themselves’ situation. Don’t think that one of them will ‘take one for the team’.”

 

“That’s what you say, tin can.” Brown smirked.

 

“Yes, that’s what I say. And you know what? The ‘no one’s talking’ is just in the movies. You’re not in a movie, Brown, you’re in real life.” Robo ignored the blatant insult. “In real life only morons cover for their buddies.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

“Spike, you tell him.” Robo waved his hand at the Wraith.

 

“We already know.” Two clawed hands fell on Brown’s shoulders and multi-layered voice hissed into his ear. “We know what part you took in the beatings. You’re not in the worst of predicaments right now but you did reach rock bottom. Now everything depends if you choose to climb back up or just keep on digging.”

 

“What the… “Brown crooked his neck to look at the owner of the eerie voice and met pair of golden eyes with vertical pupils.

 

“I suggest you talk.” Robo advised.

 

“What? Another freak like these Vrils?” He shot up but Spike, despite his much more lissom built was many times stronger than Evan Brown.

 

“Sit down.” Spike growled. “We have plenty of time. Neither my partner nor I have to be anyplace else so we have all day, and all night to do this.”

 

“He’s right. We have all the time in the world… but you don’t. When one of your palls starts to talk, your time will end.” Robo nodded. “When that happens, we’ll just walk out that door and you’ll be truly and positively screwed.”

 

“I’m not scared.”

 

“You should.” Robo rested his hands on his hips. “We’ve got testimonies of the victims… You only look big but you and your bunch are lousy fighters. In jail they will eat you alive in no time.”

 

“I’m not lousy fighter you damn Yank!” Brown started to rise again but Spike held him down with ease.

 

“Yes, you are.” Spike sighed. “You people are only really good at kicking people. From what we’ve heard you lack any skill. You’re pathetic.”

 

“You wouldn’t be that sure if we were out and one on one, you green freak.” Brown growled.

 

“If we were outside and one on one, you’d already be dead.” Spike replied with certainty in his voice. “I am tempted to give you a sample of what I can do to you…”

 

“Control yourself, Spike.” Robo warned. “You can’t devour him. He’s going to jail.”

 

Evan Brown pulled a face and turned to give Spike another look. What kind of a creature was he?

 

“Resistance always sharpens my appetite.” Spike grinned showing his sharp fangs and then squeezed Brown’s right shoulder more5).

 

Brown paled a bit.

 

???

 

The information they were given by Evan Brown revealed enough to convince other three arrested perps to talk. They even managed to crack Philip Bennings a bit. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer but his testimony confirmed what the other four men confessed and even shed some new light to the case. None of the five arrested skinheads was eager to talk about how they organised the attacks but from what they did reveal they were not part of any pre-existing far-right groups. They were a new formation. What they were eager to brag about was their generous financing – according to them someone ‘considered their work to be important enough to fund their efforts’ and that’s why they thought that they were supported by some rich protector, rich meaning powerful and influential in their minds.

 

Surprisingly it was Bennings who shed some more light on the financing by blurting that they were receiving the money as transfers and not as cash. That was enough to give the investigation a considerable push forward – transfers between banks could be tracked. Apparently the perps didn’t know that.

 

???

_Monday. September 25_ _th_ _. MI6 HQ._

 

The conference room table was covered with documents. All of them in neat stock piles of various sizes. Some of them had yellow sticky notes on. All of them had charts and lists, some of the positions were highlighted with various colours. It seemed perfectly organised but in fact it was all a mess. Four members of the League rose their heads from their tedious task as the fifth one – Atomic Robo – entered the room.

 

“Man, it’s good to work for the government; at least they make the travel reports available even if they force you to wait for it.” Robo dropped a pile of documents that consisted of whooping five sheets of paper. “I just wish that there was a bit more contents in it.”

 

“What?” Maggie raised her eyebrows. Robo was delegated to gather the travel history of the five perps.

 

“They haven’t left the islands.” The robot tapped the tiny pile with his index finger. “Ever. They don’t even have passports.”

 

“UK’s not a part of Schengen Treaty.” She pointed out. “They can travel across Europe without passports, as long as they have any other IDs.”

 

“Yeah, but they didn’t, they were not caught on any airports or other check points. At least to our best knowledge.” Robo replied. “In fact, for all we know, they might never have left London.”

 

“Well, that’s something at least.” The Inspector tapped her fingers at the table top, in thought. “If they have some sort of a boss, then chances are they’re in London too.”

 

“And where are we with the finances?” Robo asked.

 

“Exactly nowhere.” Spike answered.

 

“We can’t track where exactly the money come from.” Maggie clarified. “Whoever sent them, they could be in Tokyo or Melbourne. Or they could be in Liverpool.”

 

“What do you mean?” Robo was surprised. “Shouldn’t this be the easiest part? I know that the League was involved because this is a high profile case, not because no one else could crack it.”

 

“From this point onward we have this case because it really is that difficult.” She sighed. “Whoever is financing these thugs, they’re using tax havens to stay invisible.”

 

“I thought that tax havens wouldn’t work like financial cover ups, they only allowed you to avoid taxes.” Robo argued.

 

“Yes, but if you know how to use them, you can also remain anonymous. It’s because if you avoid paying taxes in your country you also may want to be discreet about it.” Kroenen chimed in.

 

“Spoken from personal experience?” Robo casted the German venomous look.

 

“Not exactly, but this seems familiar.”

 

“In what way?” Maggie suddenly stared at the Occultist.

 

“The more I look at these… financial compilations and the more I think about it, the more it looks like something I’ve seen before.” He said.

 

“Where? When?” She pressed further.

 

“Just after the war.” Kroenen admitted. “Some Nazi officials, some people wished to avoid incarceration and prosecution, and there were other people willing to aid them in their need.”

 

“You’re speaking of ODESSA.” Robo nodded. He remembered the time when the war basically ended but before order was restored and before Nuremberg Trials. “You see connection?”

 

“Not immediate. But look at how the money was handled.” Kroenen gestured to the documents. “It’s not identical but similar enough to raise suspicions.”

 

“I’m at loss.” The inspector admitted.

 

“I’m not.” Robo reached for the first document from a random pile. “Many Nazi criminals escaped thanks to ODESSA. Mostly SS officers but not only.”

 

“Odessa? Is Odessa one of these places that you call tax havens?” Spike asked curiously.

 

“No, Odessa is not a tax haven; it’s a city in Ukraine. But we’re not taking about a city.” Robo clarified. “ODESSA was an organisation that was meant to help war criminals.”

 

“Doctor Tesla is not exactly right.” Kroenen disagreed. “ODESSA never existed, at least not as an organisation and calling it that is most inaccurate. ODESSA is an amalgam name for numerous smaller organisations, a conspiracy network if you will.”

 

“So, how it is similar to what we’re facing?” Maggie questioned.

 

“The conspirators would place the escaping Nazis in various safe houses near German borders. The escapees would be led through Alpine mountains to reach Vatican.” Kroenen belaboured. “From there they would go to another safe house by Via Sicilia where they would be provided fake passports, often South American ones. They would then sail to the country which passports they were given.”

 

“How do you know so much?” The woman asked.

 

“Project Ragna Rok had its own, independent safety policy so as a member of it I couldn’t be part of ODESSA conspiracy, but we did observe it. We had to. Project Ragna Rok had many enemies from the start because while its head officially was general von Krupt, the true brain behind it was Grigorij Rasputin – a Russian, a Slav. That was unacceptable for many, and they ended up with ODESSA. Or in Nuremberg. Either way we had to stay wary. The only one of us who didn’t was general von Krupt who didn’t trust Rasputin and rejected his aid.” Kroenen explained. “If you will replace Nazi escapees with money, safe houses and Vatican with financial enterprises in tax havens, it all starts to look familiar. Of course with the money it is more complex because the process seems to be repeated several times, but the pattern is there.”

 

“And you think that someone who worked with ODESSA is now behind this conspiracy?” Spike enquired.

 

“They would be too old.” Robo dismissed that idea. “But it is possible that someone with some kind of connection to any SS soldier who escaped thanks to ODESSA or helped to smuggle SS men, is behind this.”

 

“But how would you know who they are, if they escaped?” Spike asked.

 

“After the war many Nazi soldiers were unaccounted for, some were caught or resurfaced one way or another, others didn’t.” Robo said. “Some of them had to die during the last days of war or during their escape from Germany, but not all of them.”

 

“And some found employment in the USA.” Kroenen added with mild sneer.

 

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Maggie spoke before Robo could reply and the entire conversation would turn into yet another argument. “Robo, contact who you can and get a list of missing SS soldiers that your government knows about. I’ll request same thing from my higher ups.” She turned to remaining three men. “And you squeeze as much as you can from these papers. Any connections you can think about. Spike, you don’t know much about the geopolitical background but Slenderman and Kroenen should know enough. Work on these.” She glanced at her wrist watch. “We still have few work hours on our hands so do what you can. Don’t stay up for too long, I want you to have fresh, rested minds when we’ll see each other tomorrow morning. Hopefully Robo and I should receive the lists by then.”

 

With that Maggie left followed by Robo.

 

TBC.

 

1) A funny thing. In Polish “Taking a French leave” is actually “Taking English leave” (“Wyjść po angielsku”).

 

2) Thank you Terry Pratchett for this, how accurate, description.

 

3) Rasputin obviously.

 

4) But not as outlandish as some may think. True, no one became an SS by accident, but there were those who were drafted into Third Reich’s war machine by force – not physical force but they were forced, let’s not forget that it was dictatorship no different than any other with additional twist of genocide few other has had – there’s one example of being forced into Nazi formation that is worldwide famous: Pope Benedict XVI was forced to join Hitler Jugent as a child and then forced into Wehrmacht which he deserted from (and he was friends with Pope Saint John Paul II who was Polish – strange are the was our destiny leads us indeed).

 

5) Reminder: Wraith feed with their hands, where their feeding organ is. Their teeth are only for the show.


	9. Spill your beans.

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Spill your beans.**

 

???

 

_Tuesday. September 26_ _th_ _. MI6 HQ_

 

As it turned out neither Atomic Robo nor Maggie Habib managed to get any list of Nazi soldiers that escaped prosecution, be it by means of ODESSA or any other. No one, perhaps with exception of Mosad, could really tell if an unaccounted for SS soldier survived the war and escaped. Or died during the fights and his remains were never recovered or identified. Or that he was captured by Soviets and never released... Or Mosad arranged for his permanent and irreversible unavailability (to unofficial and unspoken delight of pretty much everyone).

 

They started their day little late due to both Maggie and Robo attempting to obtain any sort of list that could aid them in any way. They were contacting all agencies and historical institutes that they could reach. Some agencies were bald-facedly blowing them off. Others, such as Polish Institute of National Remembrance, Czech Institute for the Study of Totalitarian Regimes, The Estonian Institute of Historical Memory, International Commission for the Evaluation of the Crimes of the Nazi and Soviet Occupation Regimes in Lithuania and Genocide and Resistance Research Centre of Lithuania among many others1), drowned them in names – all in good faith.

 

Luckily all these lists were in digital form so search with use of key words presented them a list of people whose names were connected to ODESSA.

 

The list wasn’t as long as anyone expected but still impressive enough. Robo eyed it with moderate interest, looking for any names he might’ve known.

 

“No shocker here.” Robo leafed through the few pages of printed names, ranks and other details. “Eichmann, Flik, Helsingard, Mengele, Skorzeny… and, because of course, Vanadis Valkyrie.” He looked up from the list. “Plus few other names that I’ve heard before connected to illegal activities of some kind.”

 

“Show me this.” Kroenen grabbed the pages from Robo’s hand and looked through them, he was visibly tensed.

 

“What’s the matter?” Maggie asked. Even with the mask hiding his face, it was obvious that Kroenen was spooked.

 

“I am surprised that the list is so long, and I haven’t expected to find so many ‘big’ names on it.” He replied glaring at the names on the list.

 

“As plentiful as this list is, it doesn’t get us anywhere.” Maggie pointed at the printed names before Robo could say something to Kroenen. “Not by itself anyway.”

 

“What do you suppose we should do?” Spike asked.

 

“Let’s see if our perps recognise any of these names. But let’s show him only the names, without any other details.” Maggie decided.

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Robo nodded.

 

???

 

The arrested perps were of no help, they didn't know any details but after being held for further interrogation and pending their trials, they softened enough to give their boss out after merely few minutes of questioning – each of them naming the guy and his address.

 

Maggie Habib decided to send Constables to fetch the guy. It didn't take them long to come back with the man. The man was tall and heavy, but in cuffs, stretched jogging bottoms and ketchup stained tee he seemed smaller than he was.

 

“We caught him eating chips.” One of the Constables explained.

 

Maggie looked at the man and asked. “Chips?”

 

“I ate the fish first.” The arrested man replied almost casually. Either he was accustomed to being arrested, or he was playing it cool.

 

“All right.” Maggie sighed and turned to the two Constables. “Take him to the interrogation room 'A'.”

 

???

 

The man, identified as Thomas Hill, refused to cooperate. Maggie and Robo sat on him for an hour and the only thing they managed to get was his name. And even that was like pulling teeth. Finally they left him alone, tired of the situation. Maggie asked Spike and Kroenen to work on the man for a while she and Robo took a break.

 

???

 

Maggie and Robo approached the one way mirror to see how the interrogation was proceeding. They were gone for no more than half an hour and hoped that perhaps Spike and Kroenen managed to make some progress with the man; sadly they were up for disappointment. Robo turned the intercom on to listen on what proved to be a monologue.

 

“Do you even know what this stood for?” Kroenen asked and pointed at the Nazi swastika tattooed on the man’s left wrist where it could be conveniently obscured by a watch.

 

The man didn’t reply, he didn’t blink nor his expression changed.

 

“There was but one time and place in history when worshipping Hakenkreutz was acceptable, and this is not here and now.” The German sounded borderline irritated. “I would suggest you to start talking while I’m still willing to continue this interrogation in civil manner.

 

The man remained silent and unaffected.

 

Maggie shook her head and tapped the glass. Spike walked to the door without a word while Kroenen stared at the man for a second as if he was planning how to dissect him in the most painful way, and then followed the Wraith.

 

Maggie waited for Kroenen to close the door before she started to speak. The former Nazi slammed the door hard enough for the one way mirror to tremble.

 

“I assume that your interrogation was unsuccessful.”

 

“I don’t know who indoctrinated this one, but they did spectacular job.” Spike looked at the man behind the glass.

 

“He’s worshipping Hitler with zeal that would make an average Roman Catholic fundamentalist look like a libertine.” Kroenen, technically Catholic himself2), growled.

 

“That coming from a Waffen-SS senior officer?” Robo huffed.

 

“Hitler was a simpleton; he would pour sugar into his wine to make it sweeter.” Kroenen replied. “Now, I support any individual’s right to pour any poison into their drink if they so please, but it doesn't make them a good leader not to mention what it says about their intelligence.”

 

“That explains why Nazi Germany lost the war and why his own Generals tried to assassinate him so many times.” Robo decided against starting another spat with Kroenen. “But it doesn't explain how we're going to crack that blockhead.”

 

“I'm out of ideas, unless one of you feels like poking him with a stick until he speaks.” Kroenen shrugged.

 

“I would do it, if I had guarantee that it will work.” Maggie glared through the one way mirror.

 

“I can try the method my people use to break someone. But he may die if repeated feeding and restoring him will prove to be too much toll to his system.” Spike proposed, clenching and unclenching his right hand.

 

“Maybe we should try without tortures.” Robo didn't know how it was supposed to work, but he doubted that it would count as legal way to obtain information.

 

“Spike, go find Slenderman.” Maggie decided. “I want him, you and Kroenen to work on this man, scare him just enough for Slenderman to gain access to his head.”

 

“Where is Slenderman anyway?” Robo asked. He hasn’t seen the faceless entity for some time now.

 

“Last time I saw him, he was making himself some tea and flirting with one of the female Constables.” Spike revealed.

 

“I don't know how he manages to flirt with someone without speaking... “Maggie started.

 

“Nor do I want to know.” Robo interjected.

 

“Get him and squeeze this goon for information.” Maggie finished.

 

“Speaking of which... that comment sugar and pouring poisons into one's beverages.” Spike started when they walked away. “Slender pours a lot of sugar to his beverages.”

 

“Slender could pour arsenic into his tea and it wouldn't affect him. “Kroenen replied.

 

“I wanted to ask you a question.” Spike looked behind him to see if they were out of ear range. “About the documents you have received in exchange for your services.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What kind of documents are they?”

 

“Documents regarding the League.” Kroenen replied. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Could you show them to me?” Spike asked. “Not all of them. I’m interested in how and why the League came to be.”

 

“I’m under impression that I have received these documents under the regime of confidentiality.” Kroenen started. “But I don’t see how documents on the principle of League’s functioning should harm anyone. I warn you though, you won’t find much on the subject there.”

 

“I just want to know the logic, the reasons for assembling the League for the first time.” Spike promised.

 

TBC.

 

1) These are real agencies. All founding members of Platform of European Memory and Conscience.

Founding members are various institutes from following countries:

Bulgaria (membership frozen by Bulgaria), Czechia, Estonia, Germany, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Netherlands, Poland, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia and Sweden.

With other member associations and institutes originating from European countries, USA and Canada.

 

2) According to the film biography (because the Comic one says nothing in the matter) Karl Kroenen was born in Bayern (Bavaria) which is mostly Catholic region – it’s safe to assume he was baptised and raised as Roman Catholic.


	10. Going Postal

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Going postal** **1** **).**

 

???

 

_Tuesday. September 26_ _th_ _. MI6 HQ_

 

By the time Maggie and Robo returned to the interrogation room, Thomas Hill already capitulated. He was wrapped in Slenderman’s tentacles and crying almost like a baby. If asked, Maggie wouldn’t speculate what was the deciding factor in the man’s downfall but she suspected that it was a joint effort of all three interrogators.

 

Regardless of who did what to ensure the man’s ‘cooperation’ the result seemed to be far from what could be considered a success: the man was babbling about anything that he could think of.

 

“If they broke his brain, this will be the most spectacular failure in my career.” Maggie noted.

 

“He’s spilling his beans, don’t worry.” Robo reassured the woman next to him. “I think Slenderman can hack his brain even if he’ll go coo-coo. He has to have experience with that.”

 

Before Maggie could reply, Spike turned around and looked at them through the mirror as if he could actually see them. Robo assumed that the Wraith sensed Inspector Habib’s presence since he himself couldn’t be detected by Spike kind’s abilities.

 

The Wraith gently nodded at them, giving them a signal that it was going well, or at least well enough considering the circumstances of this interrogation. It was then that Slenderman’s relaxed and withdrew his tentacles from Thomas Hill’s person. The arrested man bent forward and rested his forehead against the table he was sat at. He was trembling and sobbing. His ears were red and so was his neck, with visible veins throbbing on its sides. The interrogation was clearly straining for the man, emotionally, intellectually and possibly physically as well.

 

Robo tapped the glass. The neo-Nazi was done; the fact that Slenderman withdrew his tentacles meant that the faceless entity finished with the man, at least for the time being. There was little point in grilling him any further for now, else the man would roll over and die out of sheer desperation… and stroke if the pulsing veins and redness of his skin was anything to go by.

 

The trio left the interrogation room without a word and Kroenen, who was the last, closed the door gently. It would seem that the German was doing his best not to stress Thomas Hill any more than he already was. It might’ve been wise, all things considered.

 

“And?” Robo asked the instant Kroenen let go the door handle.

 

Slenderman gave the robot a long look before he turned to Spike.

 

“He says to look in the man’s living space. The one where he was arrested in.” Spike passed the message. “Look for any kind of correspondence, letters, telegrams, post cards. And to check his computer, email account, saved messages from forums and private conversations from social media.”

 

“I’ll get the Constables to do it, but first I need a warrant. We don’t want anyone to claim that the search was illegal.” Maggie decided. “Given the weight of this case I shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

 

Slenderman shifted his weight slightly, catching everyone’s attention once more.

 

“He says that in the end this man has a very simple mind.” Spike notified others of Slenderman’s words. “And I agree. The moment we nailed him, his mind went straight to everything that could incriminate him. It was chaotic but Slender managed to sort it out.”

 

“Great, now let’s see what exactly is in said incriminating materials.” Maggie clapped her hands together. “We should let Mr Hill to rest for now. He seems to need it.”

 

???

 

_Wednesday. September 27_ _th_ _._

 

The search was performed without delay and all required items were recovered. The regular mail was available instantly; the computer was another story however. Computer technicians had to search through the computer itself in search for any saved messages or important files, then they had to search through the man’s e-mail accounts and he had few of these. Following that they visited all his internet forums and social media sites that he frequented – fortunately he saved all his logins and passwords so accessing these accounts wasn’t problematic. That done, all the messages, saved files and forum threads had to be printed. All this consumed time, especially that there was a lot to print, and when they did finish with their task it was already late.

 

The Wednesday morning greeted the Group with their room filled with boxes of paper. It was two boxes of envelopes and additional five boxes of yellow folders filled with printed pages. And then there was a very thin yellow folder laying on top of the boxes. It was labelled “Tech Support Initial Report” in bold, black, capital letters written with permanent marker.

 

“Oh great, more paperwork.” Robo growled with enough venom to poison Olympic stadium filled with villains.

 

“It’s Hill’s mail.” Maggie reached for the technicians’ report. “At least you don’t have to interrogate it.” She opened the folder and read its content, which consisted of one half of a page. “Or maybe you do.”

 

“What does that mean Herrin Habib?” Kroenen glanced at the paper she was reading and then at the boxes.

 

“It would seem that it’s all written in some kind of a code.” She put the report down.

 

“Code? You mean a cipher?” Spike asked.

 

“No. I mean giving words and sentences new meanings.” Maggie rubbed her forehead. “All right, everyone grab a box and read through every single page inside. See if words or sentences repeat in certain contexts; let’s see if we can crack it.” She got the first box of envelopes.

 

???

 

Sometime in the middle of their digging through Thomas Hill’s mail they concluded that the correspondence with whomever Hill was in contact with was regular and reasonably frequent. The dates confirmed that both regular mail as well as electronic mail exchange ran concurrently. Apparently they each served their own purpose in the communication between the mystery man and Thomas Hill and his gang.

 

The first valuable information they managed to gather from the mail was not the contents of the mail itself but the regular dates of the correspondence: the regular letters came in twice a month while the emails came in weekly and a close look revealed that it happened usually before noon. The second thing came from the letters themselves: each form of communication served different purpose. Maggie noticed that the paper letters, while written in code, contained numbers that seemed very close to the financial support that the gang received. The numbers seemed to be in context to the rest of the letters. The emails on the other hand looked more like reports, or rather like short messages reports attached in form of password protected zip files. They didn’t have access to these reports however due to the fact that the password or passwords were composed of 64 most likely random characters each making the passwords virtually unbreakable.

 

“And so we’re stuck again.” Maggie let her arms fell by her sides. “If only we could break that damn password!”

 

“Whoever thought of that form of sending reports knew what they were doing.” Robo threw a printed email on the table. “A single zip file attached to an email, and each described differently, we have ‘weight loss chart’, ‘calorie chart for home baked cookies’, ‘scones recipe’ and even a ‘blood test results interpretation chart’. And good luck guessing what each of it is without actually opening it.”

 

“Whatever is in these zip files, it cannot be healthy for Vril, no matter what the emails clam them to be.” Kroenen shrugged. “It is a terrible shame that we cannot read these reports. Aside of the fact that these could serve as evidence of the crimes, there could be a name or names mentioned there.”

 

“No such luck, it’s not that I would even expect there to be a return address, but all we have is the post stamps from Chile but that doesn’t help us much.” Maggie inspected an envelope that was in reasonably good condition. “The post office’s own stamps are illegible; they’re either smudged or barely visible as if the ink was dried. And without it we can’t be sure where in Chile these were sent. If it was near a border then we have nothing because whoever sent them could just cross the border legally.”

 

“That often?” Robo was surprised.

 

“Why not? If the sender claim to have actual business to attend to then he would be able to do that. Or he may actually have a legitimate business going. We don’t know that.” Kroenen explained. “Or he may cross the border illegally.”

 

“Perhaps we should try and see if our technicians can track the IPs of the computers these were sent from. That should at least narrow our search.” Maggie proposed.

 

No one protested.

 

TBC.

 

1) It has nothing to do with any Discworld novel.

 


	11. Voyage, voyage

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Voyage, voyage.**

 

???

 

_Thursday. September 28_ _th_ _._

 

“Boy, do I feel popular today?” The computer technician rolled his eyes as Maggie and Robo appeared at his desk the first thing in the morning.

 

“We're here for the IP address that emails sent to one Thomas Hill came from.” Maggie hinted to the man to refresh his memory.

 

“A moment.” He dove into his folders and produced a thin one. He peeked inside to check if it was the right one. “Got it. Your IP address is foreign.”

 

“How foreign?” Robo asked.

 

“South America foreign.” The technician closed the folder. “Your Thomas Hill's mysterious admirer sent his little love letters from Chile.”

 

“Figures.” Atomic Robo took the folder.

 

“You have specific address inside if you're interested.” The technician shrugged. He did his job, now it was someone else's headache. “You're lucky that this Hill fellow knows nothing about IP addresses, otherwise he'd cleanse his inbox.” He added.

 

“And the sender?” Maggie asked. Hill's own ignorance was one thing, but that other person seemed smarted than some knucklehead.

 

“It's a post office's computer, they don't come with anonymiser soft pre-installed, public computers aren't meant to provide privacy.” The technician smirked. “Or personal security for that matter.”

 

“Thank God for small miracles.” Robo commented.

 

“Where would we be without them?” Maggie agreed.

 

???

 

The information pulled from the IP address wasn't much, but it was enough to give them place to look for the mastermind behind the grunts. The question was what to do with that knowledge.

 

“Yeah, but why a post office? Why not internet cafe or a library computer?” Robo wondered. “I would expect that at least an internet cafe would use some Proxy server and there seems to be none here.”

 

“Maybe there's none available there?” Kroenen shrugged. “The internet cafe and library I mean.” He elaborated. “If it's a small town then I wouldn't expect people to be willing to pay for internet access if they could have a free one at a post office. And even if they have a library, it may not have internet, or it may be only for members.”

 

“Is it really important?” Spike asked. “What matter is that we have address. What should we do with it?”

 

“Theoretically we have the people responsible for the beatings. We could close this case now and just go home.” Maggie stated. “But what guarantee do we have that this mysterious person won't assemble a new gang of thugs and continue?”

 

“None.” Robo nodded. “I don't think it would happen overnight but eventually the problem would return.”

 

“I will talk with my superiors.” Maggie decided. “I will recommend going after that man. Not only he inspired local youth to perform xenophobic attacks but this thing reeks of some ODESSA leftovers.”

 

“If you will replace Nazis with money then indeed it does.” Kroenen agreed. “The depth of this connection remains to be determined though.”

 

“The methods of wiring the money, the attacks, the punks responsible.” Robo counted on his digits. “I say the depth is just right to call for intervention.”

 

“I agree and I will tell so to my bosses and your 'M' but I can't make any promises.” Maggie warned. “For now prepare your reports, no matter what will happen we do have the gang and we need to set our paperwork straight so the Police can process them properly.”

 

???

 

‘ _M’s’ office._

 

Maggie Habib sat quietly in front of ‘M’s’ office. She seemed calm but inside she was being slowly consumed by nerves. She knew that she was asking for much. In fact it was more than anyone would anticipate at the start of it all. It was meant to be simple police operation in London, not some international ghost chase. Maggie was aware that international chases were not unheard of in League’s past. But in the past centuries it was a wholly different matter, and the last one took place on EU’s territory so it wasn’t exactly international, not in the sense a trip to another continent was.

 

“The ‘M’ will see you now, Inspector Habib.” Miss Moneypenny’s voice made Maggie almost jump out of her skin; she was so engrossed in her internal deliberations that she forgot that she wasn’t alone.

 

Maggie stood up and smiled nervously at the woman behind the desk.

 

“Do or die time.” She murmured under her breath as she entered the office.

 

???

 

_The conference room._

 

The table was cleared of all the documents that littered its surface earlier. Instead Slenderman sat there, writing his report. By hand. He was alone; the others left the room to do the same separately and with use of computers.

 

“You’re alone?”

 

The faceless entity lifted his head to look at Maggie, and nodded in confirmation.

 

“What you’re doing here all alone?” She asked further.

 

Slenderman waved a sheet of paper in the air.

 

“All right, carry on.” She waved her hand and picked a phone only to realise that it was digital and it wouldn’t work well in Slender’s presence. She cursed silently and left.

 

The creature observed her leave, shrugged and returned to his task.

 

???

 

It was an hour later when they met again in the conference room. Their reports done in triplicate, even Slenderman’s was copied. The folders packed into cardboard boxes, everything labelled and in perfect order.

 

“The case isn’t over yet.” Maggie announced when she entered the room. “I’ve called you to tell you that I have spoken with ‘M’. Turns out that we’ll go after that mystery man, but it will be tricky.”

 

“Tricky how?” Robo asked.

 

“If we manage to catch him, we have no guarantees that we will be able to get him out of Chile.” Maggie explained.

 

“You mean you haven't applied for extradition yet?” The robot sounded surprised.

 

“No, we did not, and we won't be.”

 

“Why?”

 

“To apply for extradition we would have to know the name of the man we're after, which we don't.” She started. “And even if we did somehow learn of his name, we would need to prove in front of Chilean court that what he did is illegal in both UK and Chile. Having that covered we still couldn't be sure if we could get him because we do not know what citizenship that person has and if Chile would extradite a non-British citizen to us.”

 

“Human extradition procedure is overly complicated.” Spike stated.

 

“And what do you know of extradition procedures.” Robo sounded genuinely surprised.

 

“The Wraith have our own extradition laws, only ours are similar yet much simpler.” The Wraith explained. “In most cases it is automatic.”

 

“Well, on Earth it is not.” Robo commented. “So, what do you want to do once we have that guy?” He turned to Maggie.

 

“We will simply abduct him.” Maggie stated plainly.

 

“What? Are you crazy?” Robo sounded scandalised. “That's never a good idea.”

 

“That's our only idea. I can't have him extradited and 'extraordinary rendition' has no application here. Therefore abduction it is.”

 

“If it will make you feel better, Doctor Tesla, there are significant precedencies.” Kroenen chimed in.

 

“Oh yeah?” The action scientist growled with irritation.

 

“Adolf Eichmann was abducted from Argentina to Israel.” The German shrugged. “And if you still have doubts, Morton Sobel was abducted from Mexico to USA.”

 

“Just because it was done before doesn't make it all good now.” Robo protested.

 

“Enough. We're doing it. And if it will make you feel any better, Robo, we still need to catch him before we can even thing of smuggling him out of Chile.” Maggie stepped in before an argument could start. “We're cleared for departure in tomorrow morning. It all depends on you, Robo, will you fly us or not?”

 

“What would you do if I'd say no?” He pondered.

 

“I would request a pilot and an aeroplane from Foreign Affairs.” She replied simply.

 

“I'll fly us; it looks like I'm outvoted here anyway.”

 

“No, you're not. It is not democracy.” The Inspector shook her head. “This is League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

 

???

 

_South America. Southern Chile, near Argentinian border. November 2_ _nd_ _._

 

The IP address took them to southern Chile, the trip took longer than they anticipated, the small town they were heading to was far-off from the nearest airport. A sudden change of hemispheres caused small shock for Maggie – it was a jump from early autumn to early spring after all. Her mood wasn't improved by the fact that they had to travel by car. They had to fly to Chile for formal reasons, they needed to be there legally in case they needed help from Chilean authorities for any reason, but once there it was their choice how to travel and it didn't have to be by car. Slenderman offered his services and Maggie would have accepted if not for vigorous protest of Robo who in not so subtle words stated that there was no way that he would be 'teleported' if he had any other alternative. That in turn led to some tension, it took some explaining from Kroenen that Atomic Robo was reluctant to use any means of travel that he could not fully understand of explain using scientific terms and formulas that he could comprehend. It didn't improve Maggie's mood but she accepted it.

 

Finally they have reached the place. The air was fresh and the scenery was beautiful. There was a forest in the distance and while the area was still mountainous, it was not nearly as high as it was upper north where the Andes reach their full height.

 

“To be honest, I expected it to be warmer here.” Maggie commented while rubbing her arms.

 

They were parked on the opposite side of the street from the post office.

 

“People usually do. Most imagine that Southern America is all Amazonian river and jungle.” Robo shrugged. “Everyone forgets that Southern America reaches down to the sub-polar area. Do you know that there is even tundra at the very southern reach of the continent?”

 

“Not to mention that it's spring in here, think of 'late March' type of weather.” Kroenen sounded suspiciously cheerful, then again, he wasn't cold, he had nice, warm looking coat. “The seasons are in reverse here after all.”

 

“Well, if I remembered I would be better prepared.” Maggie grunted and lifted the collar of her jacket. “How do you propose we should proceed now?” She changed the topic.

 

???

 

_Wednesday, November 4_ _th_ _._

 

Maggie and Kroenen sat at a small table inside of the post office, they were posing as a pair of unfortunate tourists: Maggie had a post card, an envelope and she was pretending to write a letter while Kroenen, with his head bandaged, sat next to her pretending to be suffering in silence. They were alone; Robo was safely hidden in their car while Slenderman and Spike were observing the building from a convenient rooftop. It was their third day, second when they were keeping the surveillance from inside of the post office.

 

“Are we even sure this will work?” Kroenen murmured to Maggie, he was starting to have second thoughts about their clever plan.

 

“He sends his messages regularly and roughly at the same time of day.” She whispered back and continued her writing. “He has to show up eventually, he wasn’t here on Monday and yesterday, he’ll have to come today or tomorrow.”

 

Kroenen didn’t reply. He kept his speaking to a minimum to uphold their little cover up story about his accident and because someone could overhear them and that was the problem with English around the world: one could be sure that even in small towns all around the world one could bump into someone speaking it reasonably well, especially in post office.

 

Fifteen minutes later Maggie finished with her letter, there was only so much time one could spend writing, she then packed the envelope and went to the clerk to send it. Pretending to be a tourist, she spent another ten minutes pestering the clerk about being sure that it will reach the intended address.

 

She just returned to her small table to stall a bit more by making a minor show of fussing over Kroenen, helping him up and getting his coat back on when a young girl, no more than fifteen went in and asked to use the post office computer. Kroenen discreetly observed her as she logged into an account using a login and password written on a piece of paper and then sent an email with a zip file attached to it, a zip file that she had on a pen drive.

 

The German whispered to Maggie who in turn nodded and sent a short text message with her phone.

 

???

 

“Are we sure this is the right one?” Kroenen asked Maggie when they left the post office.

 

“Most people remember at very least their login; it is the address they’re giving to other people after all.” She replied. “Even if you didn’t remember your password, you’d still remember your own login, wouldn’t you?”

 

“I suppose I would.” He nodded. “But I don’t suppose that you think a young girl is the mind behind the attacks?”

 

“Of course not, but perhaps she has an older sibling or a parent that can be such a mind.” Maggie pointed out. “Now, I don’t think she does it regularly, if she did she would know the login and probably the password by heart by now.”

 

“And we are being expected.” Kroenen stopped suddenly. “Hill’s on-line absence had to alert the person behind this.”

 

“It probably did but I don’t think that we have been made. If anything, this creep would rather expect the local police to show up. I say, he sent the girl because he couldn’t be sure, for all he knew it could be some connectivity issues on Hill’s end. If he was sure that Hill was caught he wouldn’t sent the girl, he would just disappear.” Maggie’s phone vibrated and she pulled it out to read the message. “It’s Robo, he has her.”

 

???

 

The girl was scared, that much was obvious at first sight. Her dark eyes were round in fear and she was looking around in confusion. Not that Maggie could blame her. She was apprehended by two total strangers, although Atomic Robo wasn’t that much of a stranger, he was well known even in small towns in Chile. Regardless of his fame, however, he was a stranger to the girl, and Spike wasn’t making the matter easier taking that he didn’t exactly look human, not with his eyes, green skin, white hair or even needle-like teeth.

 

“Robo, just ask her who sent her to send the message, why and to whom.” The woman requested. She didn’t exactly speak Spanish, she could bet Spike didn’t either, she wasn’t sure about Kroenen and she would bet that Slenderman could communicate with just about anyone; but she trusted Robo. She trusted him for three basic reasons: a) he spoke Spanish well enough, b) unlike Slenderman he could translate directly and didn’t require Spike to speak for him and c) the girl would probably prefer to speak with someone famous.

 

Robo did as asked and for a moment he and the girl exchanged some words. The girl sounded both impressed and intimidated with the entire situation.

 

“I told her that she’s not in any trouble, otherwise she wouldn’t talk.” Robo warned.

 

“Of course she isn’t.” Maggie sighed. “Unless she really is the mastermind behind it all.”

 

“She said that a man paid her some money to do it. He sometimes pays the local kids to do his post office biding for him when he’s in town. Nothing big too, just sent a letter for him, sometimes sent or download an email for him too while he’s busy with some other stuff. He always picks his own mail though.” Robo related the girl’s story.

 

“Ask her about that man.” Maggie nodded. So far, so good. Robo chatted with the girl for another moment.

 

“She said that he’s old, which I guess that for her means a man in his twenties and up. She says he’s blonde and wears glasses. He introduces himself as Lutipold Heyder. That’s all she said.” The robot said.

 

Kroenen suddenly stiffened, as if he saw a ghost.

 

“Is everything right, Doctor?” Maggie turned to the German.

 

“Ahh, yes. It’s the name, it sounds familiar.” He admitted.

 

“In what sense?” Robo asked the Occultist.

 

“I knew someone named Lutipold once.” Kroenen admitted. “It was long time ago and the one I used to know should be dead by now.”

 

“Who was that man that you knew?” Maggie was now intrigued.

 

“You would only know him by his first name.” Kroenen explained. “He was Heinrich Himmler.”

 

“Heinrich Himmler’s middle name was Lutipold?” Robo barely stopped himself from bursting into laughter. “As in Heinrich Lutipold Himmler?”

 

“Yes.” Kroenen nodded.

 

“The name is not a common one, but surely more than one person can bear it, especially if the one that you, Doctor Kroenen, have in mind is long dead.” Maggie shook her head. As entertaining as it was, it had to be a coincident.

 

“There’s also the fact of the surname.” The ex-Nazi didn’t give up.

 

“It’s not ‘Himmler’.” Robo pointed out.

 

“’Heyder’ was Himmler mother’s maiden name1).” Kroenen revealed.

 

“How do you know that?” Robo’s eyes grew round, literally.

 

“I once looked into his documents.” Kroenen confessed. “During the war it paid to know as much about your formal superiors as possible, especially if you were secretly working for someone else.”

 

“But Himmler is dead. He has been dead since 1945.” Robo protested. “There’s no way that he escaped, ODESSA or no ODESSA.”

 

“I agree. But it may be someone with ties to him.” Kroenen agreed. “Or maybe some relative?”

 

“Ask the girl if she knows where this Mr Heyder lives.” Maggie turned to Robo.

 

The girl was hesitant to answer but eventually she did.

 

“In a house outside the town, near one of the villages, but she says that she never was there.” The robot translated the girl’s explanation. “I’ll ask her if she can give us some directions where exactly it is and how to reach it.”

 

???

 

The house was a well-kept ground floor building surrounded by some trees and shrubs that made it look like an ideal, quiet place to retire in. Incidentally the trees and shrubs also provided the Group ideal cover for sneaking in close to the house without alerting anyone in it. Apparently Mr Lutipold Heyder was not expecting anyone to pay him a surprise visit.

 

Coming close to the house was surprisingly easy for most of them. To Spike sneaking came naturally, as all Wraith he was ambush predators. Slenderman had supernatural ability to blend into the background and remain hidden in plain sight which was consistent with his nature of stalking predator – a trait he shared with his intended prey: humans2). Kroenen and Maggie, as an ex-soldier and policewoman respectively, had their training to go by. The only one with some problems was Atomic Robo, who due to the fact that his skin was shiny metal had a hard time blending in with the foliage, but even he managed.

 

When they burst in, they expected some resistance but the man was taken by surprise. He was reading a newspaper and enjoying a cup of tea. When he saw five individuals invading his small house he stood up with rather disbelieving look on his face.

 

“Lutipold Heyder?” Maggie asked. Robo and her had their guns aimed at the man.

 

“I am him.” The man replied in English. His accent was hard, definitely not local. If anything it sounded as if he was Scandinavian or German. “May I ask why you decided to invade my home?”

 

“Because you are in contact with one Thomas Hill and financed his little gang.” Robo answered.

 

“Spike, Slender, Kroenen, go, search the house and find me some evidence.” Maggie turned to the three men.

 

“And what are you looking for?” Heyder enquired. “What kind of evidence.”

 

“Documents linking you to Thomas Hill. Plans, charts, financial reports. Letters and messages.” Maggie listed, there was no point in keeping it a secret, he knew what he had and he couldn't dispose of it anymore.

 

“Then there is no need to trash my abode.” He slowly gestured to a binder lying at the table he was sitting by. “It contains documents that you need.”

 

“That's nice of you.” Robo eyed the binder. “But I remain sceptical.” He turned to the other three members of the Group. “Go and search the house anyway.”

 

Spike and Slenderman looked around and left, each in different direction.

 

“Kroenen, do you need an invitation to join them?” Robo glared at the German.

 

“Forgive me but I have experienced unexpected sense of familiarity.” Kroenen explained. “This man seems familiar to me, I do not recognise his face yet I believe that I've heard his voice somewhere before.”

 

Heyder turned to face Kroenen and glared at him pointedly.

 

“You really do not recognise me?” He sounded amused.

 

“I think we have met before, but I cannot tell when or where.”

 

“You do not recognise my face, perhaps you remember my name? Otto Flick?” The man said and extended his hand in Roman Salute that the Nazis used. “Heil Hitler!”

 

Kroenen only glared.

 

“You do not reply me in proper manner? Never mind, you never did, I suppose that you never really cared about that, you only cared about your precious Slav Master.” Flick sneered.

 

“As a true patriot I do not believe that waging a losing war was ever in Germany's best interest, but I believed that in my best interest at the time was to stick with the NSDAP.” Kroenen didn’t sound moved by the other man's accusation. “And trust me; I was not the only one.”

 

“I know that. And near the end of the war everyone knew that we could not win. This is why shortly before the invasion of Normandy I underwent a plastic surgery.” Flick revealed. “Clearly it did pay off. I cannot see your face but we met enough time for me to be able to tell that you are not surprised.”

 

“No, I cannot say I am.” Kroenen shook his head.

 

“Another of you accomplices, Kroenen?” Robo nodded at Otto Flick. That earned him a cold glare from Kroenen; at least it seemed like it anyway.

 

“Definitely not.” The Occultist denied. “This Herr Flick is SS-Sturmbanfuher Otto Flick of the Gestapo, the very same I have mentioned to you on our previous mission, that was pursuing me and was my personal nemesis.” He continued. “Herr Flick was a captain when I was a Lieutenant Colonel, he was two ranks below me but his Godfather was Himmler himself which made Herr Flick virtually untouchable – whatever he did Himmler would always get his back. Eventually Himmler got tired of his Godson constantly barking at Hitler's pet project – the Ragna Rok. He gave him a quick promotion to a major and sent him to France to hunt down some paintings3).”

 

“And that's where I have spent the rest of the war.” Flick confirmed.

 

“After the war you have vanished. I admit that I recognised you assumed name but I never connected it to you, I always thought you were dead.” Kroenen admitted.

 

“Fortunately, for me, I am not. Thanks to my Godfather I have met Her Majesty and learned about the place in Africa to which I have travelled after I have fled from the France.” Flick revealed. “I must ask, are you alive still thanks to the same circumstances. I happen to know that you also met She Who Must be Obeyed.”

 

“I did and she shared her secret with me as well, but my 'curse' is something else entirely.” Kroenen didn't divulge on the subject.

 

“That is all extremely educating, but where did you have the money to fun Hill's little band?” Maggie decided to step in before the two Germans could continue their conversation.

 

“Many who have had escaped the III Reich had money. Some used Switzerland banks; other had hid some Nazi gold... “With that he pointedly looked at Kroenen but the other German ignored the glare. “And I am one of those who have the gold. All I had to do was to discretely recover my prize. But I'll have you informed that you will never find it”

 

“That we will see.” Maggie smirked.

 

“Indeed we will.” Flick smirked back and all they've noticed was a gentle move of his wrist followed by flash and bang, and then the entire house was filled with smoke.

 

Before they could see or breathe properly, they could hear a motorbike engine. When they managed to get outside the man was long gone.

 

“Why haven't you followed him?” Robo shouted at Slenderman.

 

Theoretically the faceless entity should be the able to catch Flick without a problem; in fact he should be the only one unaffected by what had to be a stun grenade.

 

“He says that Otto Flick was not scared and his mind was almost blank and couldn't detect any possible destination he would head to.” Spike repeated what Slenderman told him. “I can confirm that he was calm and didn't give any signs of fear that I could sense.”

 

“Flick was always disciplined, almost always kept his emotions in check.” Kroenen nodded. “He must have used that discipline the moment we came.”

 

“And why have he give you that glare when he was talking about gold?” Robo asked Kroenen. “You didn't think I missed that one, did you?”

 

“He must have referred to the gold that project Ragna Rok was financed from and that were at the disposal of General von Krupt4). It is a great shame that he died and took that secret to his grave.” Kroenen boldly lied. “I could surely take some of it into my custody.”

 

“You know, I may not be able to prove that it was Slenderman that helped you to escape on our first mission, but you know what? There are no books for that L-space stunt you pulled that one time.” Robo wasn’t sure if Maggie Habib was aware of their mission to London Below, so he decided not to reveal any details on that one. “HB wanted me to get you back, and if asking you nicely didn't help, I can still take you by force. I'd rather have you go willingly so that offer I gave you, it's still on the table.”

 

“I appreciate your generous offer, Doctor Tesla.” Kroenen bowed his head slightly. “But I much prefer to remain a free man.”

 

At the same moment Kroenen stepped speaking, Slenderman laid his hand on his shoulder and they both disappeared.

 

Robo started to say something but he stopped himself. He was so angry that he feared that he would say something he would later regret.

 

“I am not surprised.” Spike admitted. “Kroenen would never agree to join if he didn't have a plan to remain free.”

 

Robo glared at the Wraith in silence, then he mumbled something illegible.

 

“Okay, let's get back inside and finish the search.” Maggie proposed.

 

TBC.

 

1) Her name was: Anna Maria Himmler nee Heyder.

 

2) Humans are omnivores (no matter what some vegans choose to believe). In time before the ground breaking and game changing invention of agriculture we were hunter-gatherers (and it still is in our nature) which means that in order to have something to eat we had to either pick it from some shrubs or hunt it down. Now, lacking claws or impressive fangs, humans could only depend on ambush and stalking strategies. Now, ambush could work on smaller prey, but it won’t work with a beast that can trample you. This is where the stalking comes into play – humans are endurance monsters – all you have to do is to wound the prey and then follow it at a safe distance until it’s too tired and wounded to resist. Then you go in, deliver the mercy blow and enjoy your mammoth steak.

 

3) This is not exactly true, he was after three items, two of which were indeed paintings: “Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies” by Van Klomp, “Cracked Vase with the Big Daisies” by Van Gogh and the first Cuckoo Clock ever made. He also had some personal objectives involving certain “Arian Beauty” by the name Helga. He failed miserably on all accounts, as anyone who watched ‘Allo ‘Allo knows (and if you didn’t, you certainly should watch it).

 

4) General Klaus Werner von Krupt, he was the official head of the Ragna Rok Project so he was controlling the money. Naturally everyone (perhaps except for von Krupt himself) knew who the real mind behind the project was. General himself died six months after being admitted to Eisenvalt Sanitarium on February 12th 1945, his corpse was infested with beetles of unidentified species, the cause of death was never explained. It doesn’t take much imagination to come to a conclusion that the general didn’t die of natural cause (boy oh boy, would Robo be ‘delighted’ to learn about the beetles – he’d be agitated for hours). Surely Rasputin and his merry band wouldn’t allow the project’s funds to waste away, and also they would probably (plausibly even) made sure to know where to find any other ‘Nazi treasures’ – and gold is the most universal currency.


	12. Epilogue

**Dead Hearts.**

 

“ _(…) We carry in our hearts the true country,_

_And that cannot be stolen,_

_We follow in the steps of our ancestry,_

_And that cannot be broken (…)_ _”_ – Midnight Oil _“Dead Heart”._

 

**Warnings** : Crime, racism/speciesism, xenophobia and everything that comes with it.

 

Timing: 2017, a year after “London Calling”

 

Rating: T to M.

 

Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O’Neill. Thin Blue Line (in character of Maggie Habib) and ‘Allo ‘Allo (in person of Otto Flick) © BBC. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen and Hellboy) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.

This story © Archer Black. 2017

 

 

**Epilogue.**

 

???

 

‘ _M’s’ office. Wednesday, October 4_ _th_ _._

 

Wilhelmina Murray read through the report that Maggie Habib submitted and then lifted her eyes to look at the woman in front of her. The ‘M’ dropped the document on her desk and leaned back in her chair in contemplation. It seemed as if the time stood still and the universe was juggling all the possible futures in that very moment.

 

“And you have found nothing else in that house?” Finally Mina asked.

 

“No. There were only the documents that Flick, because it was his true name, kept in his binder. I admit that it was thick binder, but I suspect that he stashed some of his documents somewhere else.” Maggie replied. “Other than that, Spike and Slenderman only found three gold bars that we have seized and turned in as evidence.”

 

“It is a shame that he managed to escape but I suppose that there was little you could do. He took you by surprise and as a former operative I can definitely understand how that could happen.” Mina nodded. “At least we have Hill and his hooligans, they will have to do.”

 

“I wish we could grab Flick and put him to justice.” Maggie huffed. “I do have strong opinion about his kind of people.”

 

“So do I, but what is done, is done. Nothing that we can do about it. Let’s just enjoy the small victories.” Mina shrugged. “If it will make you feel better, Inspector, knowing Atomic Robo, he will look out for Otto Flick. And Doctor Kroenen may want to eliminate his old enemy too.”

 

“There’s another thing that bothers me, Chief, and I can’t shrug it off.”

 

“What is it, Inspector?”

 

“When I was told I would lead the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, I thought I would join a team of heroes.” Maggie spoke. “And instead… Atomic Robo, no matter how cute or smart, is a celebrity action scientist. Doctor Kroenen is an ex-Nazi Occultist Surgeon. Spike is a real alien space vampire and Slenderman’s a plain monster.”

 

“Disillusion is common reaction to the League, Inspector.” Mina said with nostalgia in her voice. “If you would look into history of the League, you would find no champions of virtue or heroes there. Only people, each of them morally ambiguous1), and some of them plain scum. Look into the past and you will see it. Take few of the most famous members. Nemo was brilliant man and a pirate. Hyde was a brute barely restraining his anger, but he knew where to direct it. And Griffin…” Mina’s voice suddenly turned ice cold. “Was a rapist, coward and a traitor2), and he ended poorly.”

 

“Does it include me? The moral ambiguity?” Maggie asked3).

 

“It includes all of us, Inspector.” Mina looked her hard in the eye. “Extraordinary Gentlemen, or Gentlewomen, have to be able to do whatever it takes to fulfil their missions and that means that sometimes they have to do things that no one would normally be proud of.”

 

Maggie blinked, realising that the woman in front of her had to be League’s operative at one point.

 

???

 

_New York. October 6_ _th_ _._

 

Atomic Robo and Hellboy sat on a convenient rooftop, drinking beer. In reality it was Hellboy that was doing all the drinking but Robo didn’t mind and Hellboy wasn’t complaining either.

 

“I knew he wouldn’t go for it.” HB shrugged with resignation. “He’s up to something.”

 

“But I did learn something. He has a personal nemesis and that ain’t you.” Robo pointed at his companion.

 

“Ain’t I? Then who?”

 

“Some Gestapo major named Otto Flick.” Robo revealed. “They clashed during the war and hated each other ever since.”

 

“I’m not surprised, from what I know Project Ragna Rok wasn’t popular in Berlin.” Hellboy nodded. “It was competition for cash and thanks to the people involved, it wasn’t well respected.”

 

“I don’t know. I mean I know, Slavs were just one rung above Jews in Hitler’s playbook, but that’s not the issue here, at least I don’t think so.” Robo tapped his chin. “Rasputin was recruited by Himmler himself. You said so yourself.”

 

“So?”

 

“Did I forget to mention that this Flick guy was Himmler’s godson?” Robo asked. “That allowed him to get away with a lot, but his uncle’s patience finally ended.”

 

“And you would like to hunt him down?” HB asked.

 

“I wouldn’t mind.” Robo admitted. “Maybe he could share some of his knowledge of Kroenen and Kurtz with you?”

 

Hellboy took a long sip of his beer giving the idea a thought.

 

???

 

_Somewhere in Siberia._

 

The hideaway in Siberia was almost absolutely brilliant, with emphasis on ‘almost’. It was well hidden from any prying eyes4), it had independent source of electricity, it was constructed so that it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer – it was designed by their master after all, and Rasputin certainly knew a thing or two about living in Siberia, given that it was where he came from. There were some minor kinks to work on but nothing drastic enough that it was impossible to fix. The only reason Kroenen didn’t fix them the last time he was there was because he didn’t live there for long enough to actually get to work on improvements. He didn’t unpack some of his things that he brought – which he was doing at the moment.

 

The room was meant to be a library but at the moment it was more of a sitting room all due to lack of enough books to fill the shelves. Kroenen was doing his best to change that, but his collection wasn’t vast enough to make a difference, even after he actually printed all the digital versions of his volumes.

 

Currently he was standing on a ladder, organising his collection of grimoires into an alphabetic order. Slenderman was standing at the foot of the ladder, handing the books to the German. All expect for one5) were merely computer printed versions in transparent plastic covers, but it was still better than empty shelves. Elegant, custom made covers for these books would come with time, after Kroenen dealt with more pressing matters.

 

“This place reminds me of one castle where we worked with our Master during the war.” Kroenen placed a Lemegedon6) on a shelf.

 

“ _How do you mean?”_ The faceless entity asked.

 

“It was merely one of many places that served as headquarters for Project Ragna Rok during the war, but it was one that General von Krupt picked himself, it was one of the most elegant places we worked.” He touched the book’s back, it consisted of a thick, dark blue, plastic spiral that bint the pages and transparent, plastic cover together. “It feels so similar and yet everything is so different.” The Occultist turned to look at the pale creature. “How far have we fallen from what Rasputin said would come to be!”

 

“ _Do not despair, what Rasputin promised you will come to be, his words and promises are true. The manner in which they will come true, however, may not be exactly what you expect it to be.”_ Slenderman buzzed. _“Not even your Master could foresee the future under his own power; he could only tell you what his own Master told him.”_

 

Hearing that Kroenen only sighed, he knew all that, he knew where Rasputin’s knowledge and power came from... He didn’t have to fully comprehend the true level of Ogdru Jahad’s power to understand that Rasputin dealt with power and knowledge far beyond understanding. Slenderman’s words rang true. Whenever Rasputin told them what would transpire he never spoke of when and how it would happen. They simply assumed how things would come to pass, they never really had any basis for their speculations other than guess, and not even educated one at that.

 

“If you’re finished moping, come and help me.” Leopold Kurtz called from the door, where he stood. “If the plumbing is to survive the winter, it needs fixing.”

 

Kroenen and Slenderman’s heads snapped to look at the short man, as he turned to leave.

 

“ _Your friend, Leopold, would make a terrible wife to someone.”_ Slenderman joked.

 

Kroenen only snorted behind his mask but didn’t say anything.

 

“And if you want to hang around, Slenderman, you better help too!” Kurtz’s irritated voice called from beyond the door.

 

???

 

_Pegasus Galaxy._

 

The space always seem dark from planet’s surface, but in reality, it is pretty bright place. And not just according to astrophysicists claiming that the only reason space looks dark is because the universe is expanding and in reality it is cappuccino coloured. The space is light because the starts, which are giant balls of blazing plasma, produce a lot of energy and spit out all sorts of radiation that can be found on the electromagnetic spectrum which includes the visible light among other, less pleasant things7). All that light traveling through vast spaces unseen because space is empty8) for most part so the light has nothing to illuminate. But every now and then a nebula comes into way and provides dust and gas for light to play with, creating radiant spectacle of light and shadow.

 

It was one of such nebulae that a single, albeit unusually small Hiveship sat in, with its Commander sitting in his personal quarters, pondering the nature of space. That particular nebula wasn’t picked due to its aesthetic value however; it was picked because it held a habitable planet… ‘Habitable’ was perhaps a bit of a stretch, it was a desert planet covered with yellow-grey dust with barely any oxygen in the atmosphere and temperature below water freezing level, not that it had much of it to freeze in the first place, on top of that its star was giving way too little light. But the planet had two undeniable upsides: it was well hidden in the nebula and it had Stargate on its surface.

 

The Wraith Commander known to some as Todd wondered why the Lanteans chose that particular planet to put their Portal on it, but whatever their reason was, it was there and it would serve him well on this occasion. And that’s what really counted.

 

His musings were interrupted by his SIC informing him telepathically that his agent has been delivered to the Dart Bay and was on his way to report to him. Todd knew that should his Hiveship was of normal size, he would have few moments to himself, but this has not been normal sized Hiveship and…

 

… the Wraith in question was now standing in front of his door, waiting for his permission to enter. Todd smirked, took a deep breath, looked around and counted to ten before he sent his permission. After all, he loved to be mean to this one.

 

Spike entered the quarters of his Commander, and wondered why haven’t he been summoned to the Bridge, but then he remembered that this Commander picked some customs from Atlanteans, and one of them was using an ‘office’ for duty related purposes whenever he deemed the issue required some privacy. It seemed that for some reason this was the case.

 

“Commander, you requested my immediate presence.” He stood in front of the older Wraith, who sat behind a desk.

 

“Indeed. Your mission, how it went?” Todd asked without any ado.

 

Spike blinked and then reported. It wasn’t nearly as outrageous as the previous one; in fact it was ordinary in comparison. His report seemed to be mildly interesting to his Commander, at best up until the point where he mentioned the information that he took upon himself to gather. He hoped that perhaps that would earn him some favour, being Commander’s favourite “pin cushion” was proving to be tiring experience, not that he said that part.

 

“These documents that Doctor Kroenen showed to you, have you obtained their copies?” Todd enquired.

 

“I had no opportunity to do so.” Spike admitted. “But I have read them and I have memorised them to the point where I can provide you with their summary, Commander.”

 

“Prepare as detailed recapitulation of these documents as you can. Report when you’re finished.” The older Wraith decided.

 

“Yes Commander.” Spike bowed his head and turned to leave, only to stop at the door. “Will this be useful in our dealings with the Atlanteans?”

 

“With Atlanteans? Not likely.” Todd slowly shook his head. “But with other Wraith? Especially with our enemies from other Alliances? This has huge potential.”

 

“I understand.” Spike replied, not really understanding.

 

“I know of at least one Queen that will be interested with this.9)” Todd added. “You did well. Dismissed.”

 

Spike bowed again and left. He had some work to do but perhaps his life would be easier now, or at least less miserable.

 

Todd sat in his quarters pondering.

 

???

 

_New Scotland Yard. London. October 12_ _th_ _._

 

Inspector Maggie Habib sat behind her desk. There was some paper work in front of her but she was focused on her email account at the moment, checking her incoming messages, clearly in search of something. Her dark eyed darted over the addresses of the senders and they seemed to sparkle when they finally landed on a message sent from Tesladyne’s address. She opened it with barely contained smirk and began reading it when her phone rang. She huffed, it was the internal line – it was probably important.

 

“Habib.” She barked to the receiver.

 

[[This is the Commissioner. We have just received the word from MI5: they have been contacted by the Foreign Office, the ‘M’ is missing.]]

 

“What do you mean, sir?” Maggie’s eyes grew round. The term ‘missing’ covered a number of things from ‘late for work’ to ‘probably dead’.

 

[[The MI6 is in no danger, but there are… complications. The ‘M’ was personally supervising reorganisation of the agency’s archives. She took over shortly after the incident with two Jihadists stealing materials that lead to reactivation of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.]] The Commissioner explained. [[We cannot be sure, but there is a chance that she used that reorganisation to conceal identities of several inactive League field agents.]]

 

“And that concerns us how, sir?” Maggie asked. She was a cop, not a special agent, at least not at the moment.

 

[[MI6 requested MI5’s involvement in upcoming investigation. You have been the commanding your own group, Group Habib, under ‘M’s’ supervision, it means that you will be interviewed. You also may be asked to lead a Group again if the investigation will uncover any signs of foul play.]]

 

“I understand, sir.” Maggie replied. She didn’t like where it all was coming. “Is that all?”

 

[[Yes. Be prepared. I do not expect you to be able to reach to all of your fellow Extraordinary Gentlemen, but inform those you can reach, that they may be needed.]]

 

With that the Commissioner disconnected. Maggie only sighed and started to compose her own message to Atomic Robo – the man-bot was her SIC, he should know what was going on. He even may need to come to London… Now that was a thought that made Maggie smile.

 

???

 

_October 12_ _th_ _. Somewhere in Africa._

 

It was autumn but it didn’t matter here. African soil was warm, African air was warm, and African sun was blazing… Africa… it was always so beautiful, even when it was insufferably hot. Then again, it was only natural that the place where one’s kind originated from would be one that one would feel pulled to.

 

“Come, Mina, we’re here only for a moment.” Orlando beckoned to the other woman.

 

“I know, ‘Lando, I know.” Mina nodded and looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set. “It’s just… difficult, you know.”

 

“Not really, well, maybe a little.” Orlando walked closer to the other woman. “I know that you wanted to pay your respects to Allan, but it’s getting late and we need to leave. We’re heading out tomorrow.”

 

Wilhelmina Murray nodded again and casted one last look at an old tombstone. They would be away and she didn’t know when would be the next time she could come to Africa again and visit this old graveyard.

 

“Haven’t been in Blazing World in ages.” Orlando led Mina away.

 

The End.

 

1) Yes, even Robo, but that only makes him more “human’ (best proof is when he meets Skorzeny).

 

2) Yeah, he was all that, and his end was… fitting.

 

3) Maggie Habib did few things she may not be very proud of; she did help her sister avoid arrest for drug possession after all.

 

4) This is closer to comic than the film, so there was no convenient dungeon under some cemetery for a show down between HB and forces of evil (aka Ogdru Jahad, Rasputin and his disciples).

 

5) _Sefer Jecirah_ that he obtained in “The Cabbala”.

 

6) A title of a real, existing grimoir.

 

7) For example gamma radiation.

 

8) Actually, that is a LIE! Big, bold lie. Vacuum of space isn’t really empty. It’s pretty much full of stuff, just because it doesn’t have breathable air doesn’t mean it is empty, it’s just humans being very… self-absorbed that think that lack of oxygen renders space empty. In reality space is filled with radiation and particles, we just can’t breathe it. Stars are producing a lot of that stuff and just catapulting it into space.

 

9) Mira, naturally, but then again, cunning runs in the family, and Mira is Todd’s sister (for reference go to my SGA fan-comics).

**Author's Note:**

> The cover image was made by me.  
> The disclaimer in the story applies to the image as well.


End file.
